


Explosions

by Pricelessact



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:51:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6814153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pricelessact/pseuds/Pricelessact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your relationship with Dean is unraveling at the seams. He doesn’t understand why this is happening, why you are unhappy, and frankly, he doesn’t care. And so, you begin your tumultuous journey into discovering what you want, who you want, and who you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Will Never Be The Same

**Author's Note:**

> Bolded in arrows are thoughts, italics are the past.

“Ugh, just drop it already!” I threw my keys down on the mahogany table, shrugged my jacket off my shoulders, and tossed it on the back of a nearby chair.

“You could have died back there-“ Dean followed in after me, still berating me from our hunt.

“Oh please, we’re hunters, we always almost die, it comes with the territory!” I said crudely.

“You think this is a joke?”

“No! Shit, just chill out, alright?” I rolled my eyes.

“What the hell is your problem?” He questioned.

“My problem?” I turned on my heels, my hands posed on my hips.

“Yeah, because right now you’re acting like a b…”

“A what, Dean? Go ahead, say it,” I cocked my head to the side.

“A bitch. You’re acting like a bitch,” he spat at me with his nose in the air.

“I’m acting like a bitch? Well, you’re acting like an asshole!” I retorted with vehemence.“You know what, what’s done is done.” I turned back around and headed straight to my room.

“Where are you going?“ He hollered after me.  
  
“To my room!!” I shouted.  
  
"Why?”  
  
“Because you’re not my favorite person right now, Dean. Plus, all we do is sleep. I can do that in my own room.” I said as I slammed my bedroom door. I kicked my shoes off and rushed over to my dresser to gather fresh clothes to change into. I wasn’t upset because he called me a bitch or because he was a douche bag during the hunt. No, those were just little pieces that accumulated to a much bigger problem. I resented him, I had resented him for months. Ever since my accident, I stopped going on hunts and stayed behind.

_“What happened?” Dean looked like hell and whatever ghoul he handled beat him up pretty bad and might have given him a concussion. “Stay awake, Dean. Don’t close your eyes.”_

_“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he waved me off and tried to stand, but I placed my hand firmly on his chest and pushed him back down._

_“Stay, I’ll be back.”_

_“No, no.”_

_“Dean, I’m not asking. Stay here, let me handle this.”_

_I kissed his forehead and lingered there for a moment, my fingers raked through his hair, his hand caressed my cheek, our breaths in sync. I got up quickly and eased my way down the hallway, walked into each room quietly, anticipating a jump. I crept up the stairs slowly, the wooden boards creaked and groaned under my feet. When I reached the top I was tackled by a brute force, almost took the wind out of me._

_“Fuck!” I yelled as my body crashed into the wall. He was a big fellow; torn, dirty clothes, his hair tousled and matted, specks of blood in his beard. He struggled to get his hands on my throat, but I pushed against him with all my might to get some distance. As soon as he took a couple of steps back, I swung at him with my machete; his blood splattered across my face, his head toppled down the stairs as his body crumpled to the floor._

_“You ok?!” Dean yelled from downstairs._

_“Yeah. Yeah,  I think we’re cleared.” I shouted as I took a quick look around the small upstairs space. I trotted down the stairs, kicked the head like a soccer ball. I marched over to Dean, who had come to his feet as he leaned against the wall. “Did you call Sam?”_

_“Yeah, he’s on his way back, got that kid and her mom out of here to Sheriff Donna.”_

_“Good,” I said relieved._

_I stopped in my tracks, my mouth fell open as the flow of oxygen was cut off. There was a ringing in my ears, and it was the only thing I could hear. Everything began to move very slowly and fast at the same time. I turned over my shoulder, and I saw the ghoul with the gun in her hand, eyes wild like a rabid animal.  She shot at me again, the bullet pierced through my shoulder. The machete slipped out of my grasp, I dropped to my knees and fell to my side. I saw Dean run past me like light as he grabbed the blade and tackled her to the ground. They struggled for a short while until he brought the tip down into her neck repeatedly. My vision started to go in and out of focus, the taste of blood palpable on my tongue. I gasped for air like a fish out of the water, the ringing strong in my ears, my right hand twitched as I tried to reach for Dean. I truly believed that was how I would die, and I couldn’t even hear his deep voice one last time. He crawled over to me, scrambled to gather me up in his arms, his hands tried to cover each wound. The sound of his beating heart dulled the noise of the gunshot and a wave of peace consumed me._

_When I finally came to, I heard the incessant beeping of the heart monitor, it felt like there were piles of rocks on my body. I opened my eyes slowly, Sam sat in a chair and smiled at me, his eyes were red, and he looked completely famished._

_“Hey,” I whispered._

_“Hey you,” Sam grabbed my hand and gave it a light squeeze._

_“Where’s Dean?” I asked the panic clear in the heart rate monitor._

_“Easy, he’s fine, he’s fine. Just went to the bathroom,” he cooed as he pushed me back softly against the bed._

_I nodded and took several deep breaths to calm my nerves. Like clockwork, Dean came around the corner and rushed to my side. Sam took a step back and excused himself to get coffee and give us some time._

_“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” he professed, he took my hand in his and kissed it several times, he uncurled my fingers and placed my palm against his textured cheek._

_“Don’t apologize.”_

_“It’s my fault you got shot,” he grunted._

_“Dean, please. Don’t blame yourself. She got the jump on both of us,”_

_“But-”_

_“Dean, please, stop,” I said as I placed my finger tip on his lips. “When can I leave? I hate hospitals.”_

_“Soon, sweetheart, soon,” he soothed, and he pushed a couple of stray strands away from my eyes._

Sure, I did it at first because I was still healing and I couldn’t put him or Sam in danger. But as time moved on, the notion of me going on hunts with them was completely out of the question. Dean believed it was best if I stayed at the Bunker and did intel work and once Dean made his mind up about something, it would take a tsunami to shake him. Naturally, I started to distance myself from him, which was surprisingly easy because he was gone all the time. I wasn’t even given the chance to confront him about my problems, so it just festered deep within me. We stopped talking to each other, we stopped having sex, we stopped doing all the quintessential things that make a relationship work. Dean barged into my room, jaw tense, knuckles splayed white as he kicked the door closed behind him.   
  
“What the hell was that about?!”

“Get out, Dean,” I said lowly, my eyes fixed on the above drawer.  
  
“All we do is sleep?  We do more than just sleep.”

“Oh really? When’s the last time, huh? I will give you fifty bucks if you can tell me when’s the last time we had sex.”

I slammed the dresser door, advanced towards, kept a decent amount of distance between our bodies but close enough that he could read me with ease. I folded my arms and popped my hip to the left as I awaited him to pull a memory out of his ass.

“Fine, it was… it was…”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his facial expression changed from cocky to puzzled to the hard realization; he couldn’t remember the last time. He shrugged his shoulders, distorted his face as he pft at his discovery.

“So it’s been a while. We do other things, we’re…intimate,” he said pompously as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“When I lie next to you at night, I feel completely alone,” I said callously.

I ran my fingers through my hair the dirt and grime painted on my finger tips and gathered under my nails. I bit on the tip of my tongue and could taste the bitter iron. My words were cruel but true, and I saw the hint of despair and anguish flash in his eyes. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath, brushed his thumb against the tip of his nose.

“Wow…”

I scratched the back of my head, looked down at the ground then back up to him. I began to twitch and fidget because I felt uncomfortable being in my skin, being in my room at that moment with him. Silence filled the air around us as it grew thicker and thicker with each passing beat. He covered his mouth with his hand then pushed his fingers through his hair.

“How long have you felt like this?”

His voice was heavy and deep, his tongue slipped out and dampened his lips.

“A few months…?” I said timidly.

“A few months!?” he said irritably, that Winchester fire began to grow within him as he was not pleased with my response. “A few months?!” he spoke again his anger coursed through his body, forced him to pace about my room like a bull ready to charge.

For a moment, I felt uneasy but then I started to get angry because he was getting mad at me. He was getting mad at me because I finally told him how I felt and he didn’t like the way it made him feel. I was pissed.

“A few months!!” he yelled, he brought his fists up above his head then dropped them down to his sides.

“Yeah, a few months! You can’t seriously be that surprised, are you?”

“Well, yeah! I thought we were fine! And then you drop this on me?! You blindsided me!” he accused.

“I blindsi- are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well, what would you call it?! I’m over here thinking our relationship is hunky-dorey, and you’re telling me it’s not, that you feel alone when you’re with me!” he said the last part in disgust.

**> >Is he really blaming me? This isn’t my fault, it’s his fault!!<<**

“Wow, ok, you know what, just get out of my room.”

I marched over to the door, gripped the knob and swung the door wide open.

“Oh no, I’m not leaving! You’ve been holding all this shit in, right? I’m listening, babe! Tell me how it’s all my fault!”

He stretched his arms out by his side into a T shape, begged me to do my worse. He was so condescending and snarky. I huffed and puffed, my lips pulled taught as I slammed the door.

“Don’t you dare blame this on me, Dean,” I stormed over to him, my pointer finger in his face, “I put everything on hold for you! Everything! You didn’t want me out in the field, so I stayed here in this God forsaken bunker for you!”

“I kept you safe!! I almost lost you once, and I wasn’t about to let it happen again!”

“You kept me caged, Dean!! That’s not love; it’s fear.”

He brought his face close to mine, his breath hot on my cheeks, his brows furrowed together and his eyes were full of rage and pain. I stared up at him, my chest rose and fell with every deep breath. He took a couple of steps away from me, turned his back, his hands on his hips, his head hung low. He began to pace back and forth, his muscles visibly tense through his shirt. He paused for a moment, his back still turned to me, his shoulders started to tremble.

**> >Is he crying? Oh, my God…I made him cry…<<**

He turned over his shoulder, and I saw him chuckling, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth.

“You know what, if you feel so trapped, then why don’t you just leave.”

He stopped smiling and looked at me with cold indifference, his arms crossed over his chest. I was shocked and his words stung my heart.

“What?” I asked my voice soft.

“You heard me. Go. Leave. The door’s right there.”

He motioned to the door with his head as he stood tall like a rigid mountain. I stood there and waited for him to say something else, anything else. He didn’t utter another word, just stared at me like a monster he took pity on. I tilted my head up and swallowed hard the icy pain I felt in my chest.

“You want me to leave? Fine, I’ll leave.”

I turned on my heels and exited my room quickly. Sam was seated at the end of the table, the laptop screen illuminated his face. He tilted the screen down to get a better look at me. I swiped my jacket off the chair, swung it around and slipped my arms into the sleeves.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yep, I’m peachy-keen,” I lied.

“You don’t seem ok.”

“Well, I am! I’m just fine!!” My pitch went up, I sniffled and wiped a tear away before it had the chance to fall. “I’m going out, don’t wait up,” I grabbed my keys and helmet off the table and made my way to the stairs.

“No, wait, hold on.”

He pushed away from the table, the chair legs scraped against the floor as it echoed through the room.

“No, let her leave, Sam. It’s what she wants,” Dean articulated as he sauntered into the room.

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, a chill ran over my body, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I gripped my helmet tight, rolled my shoulders back and leveled my head. I wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me.

“Yeah, I want to leave, Sam.”

I trotted up the stairs rapidly and slammed the door behind me. I straddled my motorcycle, pulled my helmet over my head, stuck the key in the ignition and tore out of there.


	2. Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank my oh so wonderful beta, Rose, for being the bee's knees and for continuing to help me through this. You're amazing. Also, remember, italics are the past and bolded arrow are her thoughts. n_n Constructive feedback is always welcome.

I pushed my way through the sea of people in the crowded bar, squeezed my petite frame between two burly looking men. 

 

“Bourbon on the rocks,” I shouted over the clammer and music. I handed the bartender my card, told him to keep my tab open. I curled my fingers around the short, wide glass and took a seat in the corner by the pool tables. I casually sipped my preferred poison, relished in the smooth, burn of the alcohol as it traveled down my throat. I propped my feet up on the table and surveyed the crowd as it got busier and busier.

 

_ “Go. Leave. There’s the door.” _

 

**> >Fuck you, Dean. Fucking prick.<<**

 

I downed the rest of my drink; the contents dripped from the sides of my mouth. I winced at the burn, felt my eyes water and my nose tingle. I swung my legs down and walked back to the bar to get myself another drink. 

 

“Rough night?”

 

I rolled my head and was starstruck by dreamy brown eyes and a set of white teeth. He had black hair, a little longer than Dean’s; he was at least 6’1” and he smelled like eucalyptus and whiskey.

 

“You don't even know the half of it,” I said as I swiped my drink and took another hard swallow. 

 

“I hear ya there.”

 

He raised his glass and flashed me a warm smile. I brought mine up, and we cheered to us. The clink of the glasses drowned in the noise of the bar.  It was nice to know someone else was having a shit day too.

 

“Do you play?”

 

He casually motioned to one of the empty pool tables. I side eyed him then looked over my shoulder then back to him.

 

“You any good?”

 

I opened up my body to him, leaned into my right elbow on the counter, prayed he didn't see the speckles of my blood on my shirt. I hooked my right ankle over my left, shook my head a bit to move my hair away from my face. 

 

“I think I can take you,” he smirked and finished off his drink. 

 

“Order me another bourbon; I'll set up the table.”

 

I winked at him, schmoozed my way through the crowd, fished out my vibrating phone from my back pocket. Sam’s picture flashed on the screen; I swiped to the right. 

 

“What Sam?” I answered harshly.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“What?!”

 

I covered my other ear with my finger, stared at the stained green felt of the pool table. My reception in the bar was terrible but to be honest, I didn’t want to talk to Sam either. I just wanted to forget the night ever happened. 

 

“Where--you?” 

 

I squinted as if that would somehow help me hear him better. I saw my drink appear in front of me, turned my head to the side and smiled at that handsome man.

 

“Sam, I gotta go. Bye.”

 

I rushed off the phone quickly and shoved it back into my pocket

 

“Who's Sam?” he asked as he gathered the balls into the triangle. 

 

“No one,” I heavily sighed as I snatched my drink off the table. 

 

“I didn’t get your name earlier,” he smirked as he rearranged the balls, alternated between solids and stripes with the eight ball in the center.

 

“I didn’t give it to you,” I took another swig of my drink and placed it down on a nearby ring-stained table. I grabbed two pool cues, strode up next to him, leaned against the table and offered him the stick. I revealed my name to him as I poked my tongue between my teeth and smiled. His name was Aidan; he had a cleft chin, his shoulders were very broad, and he was more muscular than Dean and Sam, and he had a fuller pout than I had ever seen on any man. He was clean-shaven, and his face looked unbelievably soft, his hands were big and square, his knuckles dusted with a soft gray and white from the lack of hydration.

 

“Break ‘em,” he told me his pointer finger tapped against his glass.

 

“Be prepared to lose,” I tossed over my shoulder as I took my spot at the other end. 

 

He rolled the triangle back and forth, lined the top with the small faded dot at the other end and carefully removed the enclosure and tossed it aside. I bent over the table, lined up the scuffed white ball, brought the cue down to rest over my right thumb. I moved the cue back and forth; the bourbon swirled through my head, and my cheeks felt flushed and hot. I tapped the white ball with finesse and watched as it broke the others apart with ease, the red solid plopped into one of the pockets. 

 

“Not bad,” he chuckled, he pursed his lips and grinned at me.

 

“Oh I know,” I confidently said as I stepped to the side of the table to line up my shot.

 

My phone started vibrating again. I ignored it, rolled my eyes and hit that little ball again. It was his turn, and I sauntered over to my drink and took my phone out. Sam called again, and I slid my thumb across the screen and pretended I didn’t see it. I held my glass loosely in my hand; it felt icy compared to my warm palm, the bourbon was fast at work.The ice was melting and tarnishing the taste of my drink, but I finished it anyway.

 

I watched him move around the table; he calculated every angle and every possible outcome that would swing in his favor. He bent down low, the muscles in his arms flexed and relaxed as he took the shot. He got two balls into the pockets. We went on like this for a couple of rounds; did some shit talking, drank some more alcohol, and just gabbed about life. He was such a fascinating man as fascinating as someone could be who didn’t live their life motel to motel, hunting monsters that people believed only existed in books and nightmares. Aidan revealed to me that he was a high school geometry teacher, it explained why he was tailing me in our game of pool, but he just received news that his school was going through some layoffs, and he wasn't entirely sure if his head would be on the chopping block. I wanted to tell him my life was a game of whether my head would be chopped off but deemed it unnecessary and crass. When he asked me what I did for a living, I lied and told him I was a painter. 

 

**> >Why couldn’t I be with someone like him?<<**

 

“I’m gonna grab another,” I said as I waltzed up to him, shaking my glass, “need a refill?” 

 

He peered down at me; his hips squared to me as he straightened his posture, his fingers curled around mine as he slowly pulled the glass from my grasp. Whenever our skin touched, it felt like electricity, a jolt, spark, a beautiful feeling that was severely lacking from my relationship. I found Aidan utterly intoxicating and exhilarating.

 

**> >But he’s not Dean. He used to make you feel that way. Not anymore.<<**

 

“I’ll get us a refill. It’s the least I can do since I’m about to kick your ass at this game,” he teased. 

 

My jaw dropped as he walked away and I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip, brushed my hair behind my ear. I jumped up on the ledge of the table, crossed my right leg over my left, I rested the cue against the edge, and leaned back onto my hands as my eyes roamed the bar. I scrunched my fingers against the felt, and I remembered the first time Dean and I played pool. He went on and on about how good he was, learned everything he knew from his old man and was ready to teach me a thing or two. 

 

_ “Now, see, what you gotta do is not come out of the gate strong, let them suckers believe you’re a novice, let them think they have the upper hand,” he instructed, chalked the tip of his cue as he wandered around the pool table. _

 

_ “Yeah, ok, Dean. Then what,” I said as I tapped the white ball and barely missed the solid purple, amused by his tips and tricks. _

 

_ “They come in groups you know. Jerks like them are always huddled together to make one giant dumbass, a flock of jerks,” he quipped as he knelt down low and took another shot, the ball inched closer to the desired pocket. _

 

_ “A Flock of Jerks? Is that the best you can come up with?” I teased, and I took my shot and landed my ball in the pocket. _

 

_ “I call ‘em like I see ‘em, babe,” he shrugged with a smile. _

 

_ “Alright, alright, we’ll stick with Flock of Jerks,” I giggled as I began to play him.  _

 

_ “Yeah, Flock of Jerks. So, they have this alpha wolf pack mentality-” _

 

_ “How do you go from a Flock of Jerks which is essentially birds to a wolf pack?” Sam questioned with a smirk. _

 

_ “Not the time, Sam,” he gestured with the cue pointed at his brother, “Anyway, so you start putting a shit ton of money down, and then they try to top it until the next thing you know, the pit is worth at least five hundred bucks,” he explained as he took a sip of his beer. _

 

_ “And then what, Dean?”  _

 

_ I continued my game, purposefully missing individual pockets so he wouldn’t catch on. I glanced over at Sam, who knew what I was doing and was getting a kick out of his brother making an ass out of himself. Dean was so distracted by his story that I almost felt bad but not enough to stop.  _

 

_ “Anyways, babe, the point is to distract them long enough until they shoot themselves in the foot.” _

 

_ “You don’t say?” I said as I tapped the black ball straight into the pocket. “That’s game,” I smirked. _

 

_ Dean brought his beer to his lips then stopped, analyzed the layout in front of him. I sauntered over to Sam as he held his hand up with a hundred dollars between his fingers. _

 

_ “Too easy, Sam,” I said as I snatched the money and shoved it into my pocket _

 

_ “I should have known better,” he laughed. _

 

_ “Did...did you just play me?” Dean asked. _

 

_ “Like a damn fiddle,” I stated as I took a seat on Sam’s knee, grabbed my beer as we clinked to my victory. _

 

_ Dean looked completely dumbfounded; the donkey sound must have been playing in his head. His mouth fell agape as he motioned to the pool table and me with his hand. _

 

_ “Sam, you’re my brother, and you didn’t think to tell me I was on a sinking ship?” _

 

_ “Dude, it’s your game, she’s just better at it,” he chuckled. _

 

_ I nudged Sam with my elbow as we both laughed at Dean’s demise. _

 

_ “To Hell with both of you I’m getting a burger and another beer,” he pouted as he tromped away. _

 

_ “Aw no, Dean don’t be like that,” I teased, “I should go after him, huh?” _

 

_ “Yeah, get the big baby,” Sam replied as he patted my back. _

 

_ “Dean, come on, you can’t be mad at me!” _

 

I shook my head as my memories faded into echoes of the past. I sat up and scanned the bar again and among the hordes of people was Sam. I jutted my neck out and squinted to make sure I didn't see things. Aidan came back and placed my glass in my hands. 

 

“Bourbon on the rocks right?”

 

“Um, yeah, thanks,” I smiled at him quickly as I inhaled my drink.  I slammed it down on the table, flinched at the sharp burn in my throat.

 

“I’ll be right back, ok?” I said hastily.

 

I hopped off the ledge; his hand grasped at my wrist, his palm had both soft and rough textures.

 

“You ok?”

 

Aidan’s voice was tender, and he was gentle with me, and I never realized that was something I missed. Dean wasn’t known to be soft, but there were little moments when we were alone or right before we fell asleep, he’d drop his stupid macho man bullshit and just live in the moment with me. 

 

>> **You shouldn’t be here. Go home. Go back to him. Fix your relationship. <<**

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just gotta use the bathroom.”

 

>> **This is a mistake, and you know it. Leave now. Why? He told me to leave. I have no one to go back to. You’re so dramatic. Shut up. <<**

 

I gave him a warm smile as he released me into the crowd. I was swept up in the current of bodies; I couldn’t see Sam or the bar or even the bathroom. Different bodies pushed against me; a girl spilled some of her Vodka Tonic onto my shoulder; the smoke permeated through the bar and with the cumulation of body heart, it made it difficult to see. I felt a strong hand grasp my elbow and pull me out. I stumbled as I was thrown into a corner by one of the exits. I turned to see Sam seething; his face strung tight like a rubber band ready to snap.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“You shouldn’t be here,” I rolled my eyes.

 

“Neither should you!”

 

“Hey, I always come to this bar. This is where I drink!” 

 

I raised my shoulders by my ears; my fingers stretched out as I gestured obnoxiously. 

 

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

 

He rolled his shoulders in; his body towered over mine; his shadow swallowed me whole. 

 

“What were you doing with that guy?”

 

“Playing pool and having a good time, which I should be getting back to him.”

I scoffed and tried to walk past him, but Sam stepped in front of me. Every time I tried to get around him he would block my path, it was infuriating, and he was getting under my skin fast.

 

“God, stop it!!! I’m an adult, respect my choices, Sam!”

 

I balled my fingers into a fist; my arms shook with anger. Sam was completely unfazed by my actions. He crossed his arms and stood feet shoulder-width apart; he sighed exasperatedly

.

“You’re acting like a petulant child.”

 

“You know what, fuck you, Sam! I don’t need this!” I spat.

 

Once again I tried to go around him, but he was having none of it. With my emotions heightened and the bourbon coursing through my body, I swung my fist at him. He stepped to the side; his hand grabbed my forearm as he bent forward and pulled me over his shoulder. He kicked the door open as I saw us get further and further away from the bar. I was livid, embarrassed, and drunk.

 

“Put me down!”

 

“Not until we get to the car,” he said sternly.

 

“I’m not leaving my bike here; my tab is open-”

 

“No, I closed it.”

 

“God damn it, Sam, put me down now!!” I yelled.

 

He stopped walking and gently brought me down to my feet. I adjusted my shirt and pushed my hair away from my face. 

 

“Are you done?” he asked snarkily.

 

“I was fine up until you came. You Winchesters have some shit timing; I’ll tell ya that.”

 

I leaned against the Impala, my hands tucked under my arms, my head down. 

 

“Why are you here, Sam? Did Dean send you?”

 

**> >Dean didn’t send him.<<**

 

“I came because I didn’t want you to do something stupid. Thank God I arrived when I did.”

 

“I’m not some helpless woman who needs to be saved by the Great Winchesters!” I mocked crudely, flailed my arms in the air wildly. 

 

“I’m trying to save you from yourself before you make a huge mistake.”

 

“Well I didn’t ask you to now did I?” I snapped my head in his direction, “Dean didn’t think it was a mistake when he told me to leave. Hell, he didn’t give enough of a damn to get me!! Pft, to Hell with him anyway…”

 

“How much have you had to drink?”

 

“As much as I wanted! Can you just quit with the helicopter parent crap?”

 

“You can push me away all you want; I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Sam strode up towards me, placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I swatted him away, pushed against his chest with everything I had.

 

“I’m going back inside…” I murmured.

 

He grabbed my wrist tightly; I immediately began to jerk and pull away from him.

 

“Let me go, Sam!!”

 

“Stop it! Calm down!”

 

“Let me go!!”

 

“Hey!! Hey! Get away from her!”

 

I cocked my head in the direction of Aidan’s voice. He sprinted towards me with such vivacity in hopes of saving a damsel. I was just a pissed off, surly woman. 

 

“No, it’s ok, I know her!” Sam tried to tell him.

 

Aidan shoved Sam back, almost knocked him straight to the ground as he wrapped me in his arms, shielded me from him with his body. He turned to me, his strong hands cupped my cheeks.

 

“Hey, are you ok? Are you hurt?”

 

“No, no, I’m fine.”

 

“She’s fine, man. Like I said, I know her.”

 

Sam’s voice was controlled, precise, and dark. I looked at him and felt the warmth of his rage radiating off his body. Aidan glared at him but softened when he looked at me.

 

“Do you know this guy?”

 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” I sighed.

 

“Look, regardless if she knows you, she obviously doesn’t want to be anywhere near you,” Aidan said as he stepped in front of me, his hand flexed, leveled at his hips as one would do to calm an animal.

 

Sam breathed heavily, his eyes on me, his jaw tense. I peeked around Aidan’s arm, latched onto him as if he were my hero.

 

“You need to stop this, now,” Sam warned.

 

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Aidan commanded.

 

**> >Stop being a brat. Sam isn’t the problem.<<**

 

I cast my eyes down as I reflected on my poor actions and decided enough was enough.

 

“Hey, hey it’s ok,” I soothed.

 

I placed one hand on his chest as I pulled his body to align with mine, his head was last to turn.

 

“I do know him. He’s...my roommate, so to speak. He just came to make sure I didn’t drink and drive,” I looked over at Sam, his anger slowly started to dissipate, I turned my attention back to Aidan, “I’m going to leave with him, alright?” He wanted to protest I felt it in his muscles as he tensed under my left hand. I brought my fingers to his lips gently. “I had a great time tonight. I wish we got to finish our game but consider yourself lucky because I would have mopped the floor with you,” I teased. He chuckled at my jab, his soft dimples caught in the light and I felt this insatiable need to touch him. I brushed my hand against his face, and his skin felt exactly how I had imagined. Aidan was so beautifully normal, and it made me wish I could toss in the towel and live a complacent, normal life until I died a happy old woman. But his reality wasn’t my world; I was merely a visitor in his as he was in mine. 

 

“You don’t have to go. I can give you a ride home.”

 

“I’ve made a big enough mess already. And you and I both know you wouldn’t take me home, at least not right away,” I smirked.

 

“That’s fair.”

 

He slipped his hand under mine as his thumb stroked against my knuckles.

 

“Go on, go back inside. Drink some more whiskey, find someone who’ll finish a game of pool with you, someone who’s not a mess like me.”

 

I hit his arm playfully, and his eyes revealed so many things he wanted to say but opted not to. He brought his hand under my chin; his thumb lightly smoothed over my bottom lip. He looked over at Sam then back to me as I nodded and assured him I would be fine. He pivoted on his foot and plodded back inside the bar. I watched him leave and saw my provincial life leave with him. I sighed heavily, raked my fingers through my hair, felt a heaviness on my chest. I looked over at Sam, who was calmer than before but was going to give me an earful when I got in the car. I walked past Sam, swung open the door, slid into the backseat, and curled into myself. Sam got into the car but didn’t start the engine right away. I traced my finger along the sewn edges of the seat, overwhelmed by so many thoughts and emotions.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked breaking the silence.

 

“No, not really,” I murmured.

 

“Would you have really left with him if I hadn’t shown up?”

 

“What?” I asked as I propped myself up on my left arm.

 

“Would you have left with him if I hadn’t shown up?” he repeated as he turned his body towards me.

 

“I..I don’t...maybe?” I shrugged.

 

Sam dropped his head for a moment then looked out on the road ahead of us.

 

“Why?”

 

“What?”

 

“Why would you leave with him?”

 

He roared the engine to life as we began our trip back home.

 

“He made me feel...happy, wanted. He felt safe and warm to me… He’s everything Dean’s not. He’s gentle, kind with just enough edge to him, smart, level headed...I could never be with someone like him.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because...it just wouldn't work, ya know?”

 

I rolled my head back against the seat; the alcohol steadied in my body. 

 

“Did you grab my helmet?” I asked, my eyes fixed to the roof of the car. 

 

“I didn't see your helmet.”

 

“Who steals a helmet?” I scoffed but laughed at the notion; Sam snickered as well.

 

“Sam?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

I yawned, my eyelids and my body finally settled after my long, strenuous day of fighting and drinking. I lay back down on the seat; my arm flopped over my eyes as I released a heavy sigh. I just felt completely beat and was already slipping into the veil of sleep. 

  
“Why couldn't I have fallen for someone like you?” I mumbled as I dozed off.


	3. Ashes to Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much Rose for your continued support with this!! And also thank you to all of y'all that have left me kudos and have read my story. It truly means a lot to me. :)

I woke up in my bed, fully dressed, boots still on, hair tousled and ratted, my cheek was damp with saliva, and I  had sleep crusted along my lashes and inner corner. I had a throbbing headache and ridiculed myself for not drinking any water before I passed out. I sat up slowly, rubbed my forehead, looked around my room with one eye. I swung my legs over the edge and dragged myself to the bathroom. I flipped the switch and was startled when I looked in the mirror.

 

“Oh, shit. I look God awful. Look at those bags,” I said as I tapped on my cheek bone.

 

I brushed my teeth slowly as little bits of the night before started to come back. I peered around the door frame and read the clock; six in the morning. I never could sleep soundly after a night of drinking. A memory flashed in my mind; I remember Sam picked me up from the bar.

 

“Ugh, fuck, I left my bike,” I groaned.

 

I slapped the switch, stood in the middle of my room, tried to piece together the puzzle of the previous night. I stripped myself of my clothing and took a nice warm bath. I dipped my finger repeatedly into the water, watched as the ripples spread one by one.  I slid down further, submerged myself under water except for my nose and mouth. The water helped drown the pounding in my head, made it easier to read the previous chapter.

 

**> >Ok, Dean pissed me off. I remember that very clearly. I went to the bar. Drank a shit ton of bourbon. I met someone...What was his name? Adam? No. Aidan? Yeah, Aidan. I liked him. I doubt I’ll ever meet another man like him. Focus! When did Sam pick you up? Time means nothing, don’t remember. Move on. He appeared, pissed at me for some reason. I punched him...fuck, I punched him. No, wait, I missed. We argued outside. Aidan came to my rescue. Then he left. I didn’t want him to go… I got in the car and passed out. Classy. Super classy. So, what do we do now? Continue as before? Fuck no, everything’s changed. I’m getting back in the field whether he likes it or not.<<**

 

I sat up, rubbed my fingers against my eyes and down my face. I drained the water, rose to my feet, and wrapped a towel around my body. The water fell from the tips of my hair and body, created a little trail of pools as I walked out of my room, down the hall and into the kitchen. They boys were never ones for rising early in the morning, and normally I would be asleep too but since I wasn’t, I made myself some coffee and took a seat at the small table. I pressed my fingers into my temples and made small circles to soothe my hangover. I folded my arms in my lap and pressed my cheek to the cool plastic table; it felt really nice. The sound of the coffee maker finally groaned to a halt, but I was far too lazy to get up and pour myself a cup. I turned my head slowly, propped myself up by my chin, and I just stared at the coffee.

 

**> >Why can’t you just be already here, in my hands?<<**

 

I groaned, pushed myself away from the table and made myself a cup. I inhaled the sweet aroma, poured a little bit of sugar and took a sip. I moaned at the heavenly taste of hot coffee on my tongue. I left the kitchen and sauntered over to Sam’s laptop in the main hall. I began my search for any cases that were strange and usual. There were a couple of cases that kind of stood out but not enough for me to pack up my things and go. I continued my research, finished my coffee uncommonly fast, and my hangover was just an annoying thump in the back of my head. I took a small break and walked back into my room to ready a duffle bag, changed clothes and out of that towel. I tugged up a pair of dark wash jeans, pulled a forest green top over my head and laced up my dark brown boots. I threw some clothes and hygiene essentials into a bag and zipped it up. I marched back over to the main hall, took my seat again and continued my search.

 

**> >Come on, give me something good…<<**

 

Time ticked by and Sam was the first to make an appearance. I glanced at him and smiled; he somehow always managed to look like a puppy when he woke up. His hair was disheveled, he donned navy blue pajama pants that morning and no top. He trudged to the kitchen, opened a cabinet, poured himself a cup of coffee and joined me in the main hall.

 

“Morning.”

 

“Morning,” I replied eyes glued to the screen.

 

“How ya feeling?”

 

“Oh you know, woke up with a super sweet hangover, slept for maybe 4 hours, so not great but not bad either,” I shrugged.

 

“Explains why the coffee is so strong,” he said after he had taken a sip, his eyes were big as he blinked several times.

 

“I added an extra scoop...”

 

“Oh, I can tell,” he said as he took a seat next to me.

 

“So... about last night,” I began as I tilted the screen down a bit so I wouldn’t be distracted, “Thank you for picking me up. You didn’t have to, and lord knows I didn’t want you to but… thanks.”

 

“It’s no big deal,” he shrugged with a sheepish smile.

 

“No, it is. I was an asshole to you. I remember that much. You were just trying to help, and I lashed out at you.”

 

“Really, it wasn’t a big deal. I was happy to do it.”

 

“Sam, just say you’re welcome,” I smirked.

 

“Ok. You’re welcome,” he huffed with a grin.

 

My eyes lingered on him for a moment, the energy that radiated off of him always put me at ease, just one of the amazing traits he possessed. Sam blinked slightly slower than normal as if he were taking a picture in his mind, it was odd, I had never seen that look before. I turned my attention back to my work, but I could still feel his gaze upon me.

 

“Do you remember anything else from last night?” he questioned as he brought the mug to his lips once more.

 

“Mm, I remember being an asshole, and that whole ordeal happened, and then I passed out in the back of the Impala,” I sighed.

 

“Oh..ok.”

 

“Why did something else happen? Did someone steal my bike?!”

 

“No! No, nothing happened to your bike,” he eased.

 

“Oh, thank God. That would definitely make my list of Shit Things That Happen When I’m Drunk.”

 

“You did get your helmet stolen, though.”

 

“Who steals a helmet?” I scowled.

 

“Who leaves their helmet on their motorcycle?” he quipped.

 

“Valid point. But really; who steals a helmet?” I chuckled.

 

“You said the same thing last night,” he smiled.

 

“Did I?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, did I say anything else?” I asked as I crossed my left leg over my right.

 

He shook his head slowly, pulled his mouth into a small frown. I was relieved by his small gesture, elated to know I didn’t say something I might regret in my sober condition.

 

“Cool. Good,” I hesitated a moment to ask my next question, “Did… Dean… nevermind,” I shook my head, dismissed the thought completely.

 

“Hm?” Sam raised his brows as he waited for me to finish my question.

 

“Nothing…”I said as I stared down at my knee. Several moments of silence passed, and  my mind began to drift back to Aidan and a complacent smile formed on my lips. Sam shifted in his seat, drummed his fingers against the side of the mug, leaned against the back of his chair as he opened his body to me.

 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

 

“That guy from the bar last night,” I answered as I nipped on the tip of my thumb.

 

“Oh…” he said as he brought the edge of the mug to his lips and took another sip,” You were really... _entranced_ by him…”

 

“He was a wonderful man. He was so… ordinary in the best possible way,” I folded my arms on the table as I leaned forward, “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” he seemed more relaxed since I changed the subject.

 

“What was it like to live a normal life?”

 

“What do you mean?” He asked with a quizzical look on his face.

 

“I mean, you got out, not for long, but I know you got out of the hunting game for a bit. What was that like?”

 

“Umm..” he paused for a moment, curled his lips in, his right leg started to tremor, “It was… nice, I guess?”

 

“You guess?” I cocked my head to the side.

 

“I mean...it _was_ nice. But, a part of me felt it was wrong to have that kind of life, you know?”

 

“Why would you feel bad about being happy?”

 

“I didn’t! I mean… it’s hard to explain,” he leaned forward, mirrored my posture,  “I was happy but… I couldn’t really enjoy it because I knew it wouldn’t last,” he said slowly.

 

“Why wouldn’t it last? Because of Dean?”

 

“Well, him and... _this_ ; this whole lifestyle. I was never really free from it, and I don’t think you ever can be.”

 

His answer vexed me. I sat back, tapped my fingers against the table, my brows knit together.

 

“Why do you ask?” he took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never wavered from mine.

 

“Just something I thought about a handful of times. Sometimes I wish I  could throw my hands up in the air and just walk away from it all. Meet someone normal and have that apple pie life; a house, a green yard for my dogs, and my man by my side.”

 

“No kids in this fantasy life?”

 

“I don’t know,” I paused for a moment to think about it, stared at my hands,  it was never something that crossed my mind, “If it happened by chance, I don’t think I’d be upset, but I don’t know if I could willingly bring a life into this world… What about you?”

 

“I’d like to say yes; have a kid or two but I don’t want them to be apart of this life. I wouldn’t want them to grow up the way Dean and I did. I’d want to provide a life of safety for them, and I know that wouldn’t happen.”

 

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I’d love to give them the life I never had… but, I think we turned alright,” I smirked half-heartedly.

 

“Yeah, we did,” he said as his hand curled around mine.

 

**> >Sam Winchester; you wonderful human being. The world doesn’t deserve you.<<**

 

“So what are you researching?”

 

“Cases. My days of staying in this bunker are over. I’m getting back out there and doing what I am good at.” I flipped the switch within me, put on that distant, hunter mask I had grown accustomed to. I dragged the laptop back to me; my fingers hit the keys rapidly and with gusto.

 

“You’re gonna hunt by yourself?”

 

“Yep, because there’s no way I’ll go hunting with _him_ again,” I said tight lipped.

 

“I’ll join you.”

 

“Yeah, sure, Sam, ok,“ I scoffed as I rolled my eyes.

 

He stared at me to the point it made me feel uncomfortable. He was serious. I glanced over at him, I stopped typing, bemused by his response and his stare. I would never ask Sam to go with me because, well for starters, I didn’t need him to and I would never break up the dynamic duo that was The Winchester Brothers. Dean needed him, always have and always will, and Sam needed him just as much. Regardless, of how I felt about Dean, I would never come between them.

 

“No,” I said bluntly.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because no,” the inflection rose in my voice, his idea was asinine.

 

“You need someone to look after you.”

 

“I don’t need anyone to look after me,” I snapped as I slammed his laptop shut and pushed away from the table.

 

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant.”

 

Sam followed me to the kitchen as I poured myself another cup of coffee, his hands cupped his hip bones, his eyes flat.

 

“You can’t hunt with me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because Dean needs you. You know that, I know that, and he knows that. He’s too volatile and needs you to balance him,” I said as I leaned back against the counter, my legs crossed in front of the other, mug in my hand, “Plus, he’d never let you go with me.”

 

“Look, I’m fully aware that you can handle yourself, I get that. I’m not saying I’d go on every hunt just a couple here and there,” he motioned with his left hand with a small shrug of his shoulders.

 

I didn’t like the idea, but I didn’t dismiss it completely. Hunting alone was my preferred style but I had done some cases that would have been much easier to handle if someone had been with me. That is what I hated about a trio; it would always be an all or nothing affair, someone would be the odd man out. I placed my empty mug into the sink, sauntered up to Sam with my hands in my pockets, rocked back and forth on my toes.

 

“Wanna do me a favor?” I asked as I looked up at him with one eye, pulled my face in different directions.

 

“What is it?” he grinned.

 

“Can you take me to get my bike?” I asked in a puny little voice.

 

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he rolled his eyes, “Let me get dressed, ok?”

 

“Cool, I’ll just be over there, where you found me.”

 

I followed him out of the kitchen; we split in opposite directions and I took my seat back at the table. I finally found a case that seemed worthy of my time and worth the drive. A woman was found in the woods mutilated with her heart ripped out. Werewolves. Simple Enough. It was the fourth death in three weeks in the small town of Johnson City, Texas. It was an eleven to twelve-hour drive from the Bunker and knowing me; I’d get there in about two days. I heard footsteps approach down the hall I assumed Sam was ready to go.

 

“I think I found my first case,” I stated. I e-mailed the details and the location to myself from Sam’s laptop that way I had everything on my phone.

 

Dean stood motionless, his eyes were bloodshot and full of dejection, the darkness underneath was prevalent, and his stubble cast a soft shadow under his cheekbones. His charcoal v-neck had creases from the bed sheets and his black sweatpants sat neatly on hips. I exed out of all my research, pulled the screen down to a close, and anxiously waited for him to speak.

 

>> **Come on, Dean, say something. Anything. <<**

 

Silence. He released an exasperated sigh, rubbed his calloused hand on the back of his neck, turned over his shoulder and walked away.

 

**> >Let him go. No! This isn’t a fight you’ll win.<<**

 

I brought my eyes down to my fingers as I picked at my cuticles, I bit hard on my bottom lip, smoothed my tongue over my top teeth. I got up abruptly from the chair and booked it to the kitchen, the muscles in my body were tense and my hands trembled. Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and he moved through the kitchen nonchalantly, completely unaware of the storm I brought with me.

 

“So we’re not going to talk about this?!” I said hastily, my right hand on my hip.

 

“What’s there to talk about?” he asked calmly and coolly as he took a sip of his black coffee.

 

“Us! We need to talk about us!”

 

“I think we said enough yesterday,” he rolled his emerald eyes up to meet mine as he leaned against the counter, his left hand gripped his bicep and he took another slow sip.

 

“Don’t do this,” I scowled as I wafted my hand at him.

 

“Do what?”

 

“This! This ‘I Don’t Give A Shit’ act!”

 

“Oh, it’s not an act, sweetheart. I don’t care anymore,” he shrugged.

 

“What do you mean you don’t care anymore?”

 

I spoke each word slowly; my arms folded across my chest, my shoulders fell slightly forward. I couldn’t believe what he was saying and I didn’t, it was just another cover to protect himself and keep me at bay but either way; it still hurt.

 

“Exactly that. I don’t care anymore.”

 

“You don’t care anymore? So I mean nothing to you? This relationship means nothing to you?” I questioned, my left brow arched, my right hand covered my heart as if it would somehow keep it from breaking.

 

He pursed his lips and I saw that little white flag waving in his eyes.

 

“So that’s it? It’s over; we’re done?!” I stared at him, tried to keep my eyes wide open so as to not let any tears fall.

 

“Yep,” he said definitively.  He threw back the rest of his coffee and placed the mug in the sink.

I closed my eyes, tears trickled down my cheeks, I sucked my lips in, and bobbed my head lightly. I pressed my fingers to my lips to hide the slight tremor my emotions had stirred; he just looked down at me with cold, apathetic eyes.

 

“I should leave then…” I said barely louder than a whisper as I quickly wiped my tears away.

 

“You can do whatever you want. I won’t hold you back anymore,” he said harshly.

 

I turned to walk to my room but stopped in the doorway, faced him as my knuckles burned white.

 

“I will not apologize for finally expressing how fucking lonely and miserable I have been these past few months. I will not tip toe around your ego anymore. As much as this hurts, I know I’ll get over it. But you, it’ll devour you, the guilt will fester within you because, in a world full of shit and darkness, I was your light. You’re the one that needed _me_ to stay,” I said with conviction.

 

His mouth fell open slightly, and his expression changed from indifference to uneasiness. I held my head up high as I pivoted over my foot and headed straight to my room. The silence in the Bunker was disturbed by the sound of ceramic colliding with the wall. I shoved a couple more items into my duffle bag, didn’t have nearly enough room to take everything with me that I had accumulated during my stay with them. I slung my bag over my shoulder; my hands formed a steeple over my nose as I took several deep breaths to calm my nerves. Everything had changed so quickly, and it took my breath away. I no longer had a home, and I no longer had Dean. It was terrifying but strangely liberating at the same time. I tore myself from my pain and headed above ground to the Impala. I threw my bag down into the dirt, plopped down next to it and leaned against the cold metal door. I closed my eyes and inhaled the fresh scent of the grass and trees, tried to push all the negative energy out of my body. Every breath I took, I inched closer and closer to the edge; the tears welled in my eyes again, my throat constricted, my sinuses tightened in my face. The bunker door swung open and closed with a dull thud as Sam approached me.

 

“Hey, is everything alright?” The tone of his voice was a little rattled, and he seemed so concerned by whatever scene he stumbled upon inside.

 

I quickly came to my feet, turned my back away from him, and wiped my tears right away. I cleared the lumps in my throat, brushed my bangs behind my ear and placed my hands firmly on the hood of the car.

 

“Everything’s fine, Sam,” I lied.

 

“What happened in there?”

 

“Just tied up some loose ends with your brother…” I reached over and picked up my bag, “Let’s go,” I said as I swung the door open, tossed my belongings into the back, and slid in the passenger’s seat. Sam walked around the hood of the car, never dropped his apprehension for me as he threw himself into the driver’s seat. I kept my gaze straight ahead, and I saw out of my peripheral he wanted to know what led him to the person that was now beside him, distant and hard when only a few moments earlier I was the exact opposite. He curled his hand around mine and gave me a squeeze; his thumb tentatively grazed my skin. I didn’t return the kind gesture, but I didn’t shun it away either. The world flew past us in a blur as we headed back to the bar. We didn't converse on our small trip, and Sam didn't pry. When we finally came upon the place and the car came to a halt, Sam turned to me ready to spill his thoughts to me, but I got out of the car before he could get a single word out. I snatched up my bag, beelined straight to my motorcycle, my boots crunched against the small rocks and dirt. I smoothed my hand over the seat, followed the curvature of the reflective black plastic frame. I swung my leg over the seat and smiled to myself; just me and my bike once again.

 

“Where you headed?” he asked breaking the silence between us.

 

**> >Tell him you’re not coming back. I can’t, he’ll convince me to stay. Tell him after the hunt. It’ll be easier.<<**

 

I peered over at him; I was going to miss him. I thought the absolute world of Sam, such a kind soul and he had always been nothing but nice and wonderful to me. The whole reason I was with them was that Sam convinced Dean and me that it was smarter to hunt together, albeit I didn’t want to and Dean thought I was an insubordinate shit but we all kind of worked well together, at least we did back then. I hopped off my bike and flung myself into his arms. He smelled fresh and clean and another kind of scent that was uniquely his own. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, he held me close; his hands grappled at my body. There was always something so _desperate_ about the way Sam hugged me. It always felt like it could be the last time I would ever be held in his arms as if he constantly thought about the morality of the world and made the most of it as much as he could; in this case, he was right.  He relaxed his hold on me as I slid down to my feet. I smoothed the front of his gray and green plaid shirt, dusted off his shoulders, a routine I always did to both of them before they left on their hunts. His hand looped behind my head as he pressed a gentle kiss on top of my crown. I saddled up on my bike, gathered my hair at the nape of my neck into a low ponytail. I stuck my key in the ignition and brought my bike to life. Sam scratched the back of his head, looked down then met my gaze. His pupils were dilated, and he blinked slowly at me again.

 

“I’m driving to Johnson City. It’s about a twelve-hour drive.”

 

“Ouch, that’s a long drive,” he chuckled.

 

“Yeah, but it’ll be good,” I nodded.

 

Sam shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, he fidgeted and shifted; he seemed so anxious and restless, it peaked my curiosity. What had him so thrown?

 

“You alright?”

 

“Yeah, it’s just… it feels weird to be on this end,” he sighed.

 

“On what end?” I tilted my head.

 

“Being the one that has to stay behind. It sucks,” he said.

 

I gripped the handles tightly, nodded my head slowly, my tongue poked between my canines.

 

“Yeah, it does, but you’ll be ok, I promise.”


	4. Eat, Drink, & Be Merry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for posting this so late. A lot has happened in my personal life and this story was tearing me in so many different directions. Did some reflecting and characterization and whipped this bad boy out. This is a new monster we haven't seen and I'd thought it'd be fun. Comments and feedback are always welcomed so long as it's constructive. Enjoy. :)

I was in Johnson City for a couple of days; interviewed the family of the deceased, talk to cops, scouted the area. I inquired about the wildlife around the wooded area, and they told me there was nothing out of the norm; deer, birds, coyotes, etc. They questioned why the FBI would be concerned about a string of deaths in a small Texas city, and I did my due diligence to convince them it was part of my job, and it's what my superiors wanted. I was a bit rusty interacting with officials, gave a little more attitude than I meant to so I had to get out of there before they started grilling me. After all my research, I still believed I was tracking a werewolf, maybe a pack of werewolves but there was a small chance that I could have been wrong. Something gnawed at me and gave me cause for pause. What if I had the whole thing wrong? Each victim was discovered in Pedernales Falls, all of them with their hearts brutally ripped from their chest, bodies left near water.    
  
I retreated to my motel, changed clothes, packed my favorite weapon, a CZ75 my parents gave to me when I was twelve years old, loaded silver bullets into the chamber and tucked my pocket knife into my boot. I gathered my hair at the crown of my head, coiled it around itself and secured it with a rubber band. My heart rate was a little above normal, my mouth felt weirdly dried, and there was a slight tremor in my hands. It was my first hunt in years that I had to do alone. If something went South there would be no one to turn to, no one to help me, if I died, no one would know, not for a while.  I shook my hands, popped my neck, rolled my shoulder several times to release the built up anxiety and stress in my body.   
  
**> >You’re going to be fine, you have this. You know how to hunt.<<**   
  
I took a deep breath, swiped my keys from the nightstand and began my drive to the woods. The sun had shrunk away into the distance and moon slowly climbed into the heavens, aiding the stars in illumination. I roughly pulled into a vacant spot and began my trek. I had a rough idea of where I believed the pack would be, somewhere close to the waterfalls or the river. The air was humid and hot, the small hairs at the bottom of my head clung to my neck, sweat dripped from my brow, and I wanted nothing more than to discard my clothing and jump into the water. A bug flew by me, a mosquito took some of my blood from my arm and added to the fun time I was clearly having. I had my gun readied in my grasp as I carefully maneuvered through the woods and listened to anything that sounded like a transformation. I rested on a piece of fallen wood, squinted up at the moon, felt like a sitting duck. I coarsely rubbed the back of my neck, peered out into the endless trees around me.     
  
**> >Fuck, what if I’m wrong?<<**   
  
I pulled myself up with a heavy sigh, scratched at the little red bump on my forearm and continued onward. The silence encompassed me, made me feel like I was going mad and then I heard the faint sound of laughter. The jovial sound called to me, and I found myself walking faster then running to the beautiful sound. In a small clearing, there were a group of women; dancing, drinking, laughing around a roaring fire. I stood and watched them frolic around the fire; they moved with such ease and freedom, and I couldn’t help but stare in awe. My arms hung loosely at my sides; my gun felt light in my fingers, and I almost dropped it. They looked like women but at the same time, they didn't; something was off about them, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. A fraction of me feared them, but a bigger part of me wanted to be near them, I wanted to be with them. They looked over at me, beckoned me to join them, their smiles and laughter never wavered for a moment. I fixed my gun into the waistband of my pants, hid the glock under my shirt, then walked towards them timidly. I got closer and closer; my body felt light, and any worry or ache I harbored was gone. I felt free and happy.  They were so gracious as to offer a cup of wine to me and I was not much of a wine drinker, preferred harder alcohol, but once it touched my lips, I was overwhelmed with a sense of euphoria. I never experienced anything so wonderful or delicious in my entire life. I danced and laughed with them, drank more and more wine as I moved my arms through the air, marveled at the sky; the various shades of blue swirled together, and the moon was unbelievably big and bright. I felt like I was seeing color for the first time, I was hypersensitive to the wind in the air, the smell of the wood burning logs, the glow of the fire.  My eyes were torn from the sky when I heard his deep, husky voice say my name. I sharply turned my head and saw Dean smiling at me. I couldn't believe it, I shouldn't have believed it, but I was on some otherworldly high and the only man to ever make me feel that kind of passion, that kind of intensity, was standing before me as if the past week had never happened.    
  
"Dean," I huffed under my breath, my grin so wide it would make the Joker jealous.    
  
I sprinted towards him, wrapped my arms around his neck as his strong arms curled around my body. He held me close; our lips meld together, and it sent a jolt of electricity throughout my body. I had to have him closer; I needed more of him, I craved his affection and touch. The rest of the world didn't matter, nothing mattered at that moment except for us. We fell to the ground, our hands grappled at each other, our tongues entwined, our grunts and moans created a barrier; was like music to my ears. Our lips parted for a moment; I gazed into those beautiful emerald eyes and for a split second, like a flash of lightning, I saw someone else's eyes peering down at me. It was so quick I hadn't noticed it at the moment. I raked my fingers through his hair, lightly pulled and tugged, his hand crept up my shirt, he roughly grabbed my left breast, the gesture was painful, but I didn't care; I needed him. As he moved from my lips to my neck, sucking and biting at the delicate flesh, I rolled my head to the side, saw the women dancing and drinking around the fire. I should have cared that they were around, that they could see how desperate we were, but I didn't, and they seemed to be elated that it was happening. I didn’t realize how much I missed the feeling he ignited in me; the feeling of fire and passion burning under my skin, when we touched; explosions. The way his hands knew the layout of my body, the feel of his calloused palms on my soft flesh, the smell of gunpowder and whiskey became my commodity. I gripped at his biceps, and I wanted to strip him of his maroon button up even though it was my favorite on him. His hips ground into mine, my palms grappled onto his shoulder blades and back, the feel of his stubble against my skin was insatiable. My eyes wandered to the campfire, and my breath caught in my throat when I saw Sam standing stock still, and it seemed like he was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear a word he said. It was as if someone had put him on mute. He seemed worried and concerned as if he were trying to warn me of something.    
  
I furrowed my brows, blinked several times and started to see glitches in the world around me. My phone was vibrating and ringing in my pocket, and I could feel it. My eyes darted to the women dancing but they didn't look like women, they looked like creatures I had never seen before. I looked for Sam, but he was gone, my heartbeat started to quicken as I became more and more coherent of the situation. I pushed Dean off of me and when he fell back, what lay before me was one of those creatures. It hissed and screamed at me and my instincts kicked in. I sat up, pulled out my gun and fired a couple of rounds into the heart. It relinquished a blood-curdling scream, and I quickly covered my ears to muffle the deafening sound. I was surrounded by the wailing of these monsters and silver bullets only seemed to piss it off.   
  
**> >Run!<<**   
  
I scrambled to my feet and took off into the dark of the woods. I could still hear their screams and knew my window was closing fast. I didn't know what I was up against, but it was powerful, and all I had with me was a useless gun and a knife. I heard shuffles in the trees by me, but I kept my eyes forward, I wasn't about to shift my focus unless I wanted to trip, and fall and be a meal for those things. I stumbled a little but never fell completely, tried to keep my wits about me, but I couldn't remember which direction I entered from, and the fear started to grow in my chest. I was tackled from the side, fell hard to the ground, smacked my head against the dirt, and it left me lightheaded and vulnerable. Whatever it was, it was robust and massive, but I couldn't focus on it, it just looked like a large black blur on top of me. I writhed under it as it raised its sharp claws into the air, preparing to remove my heart from my body. Then in an instant, a coyote tackled the monster to the ground, its teeth pierced into the flesh of its skin. I stared wide eyed for a moment then ran off. The sound of howls echoed through the trees and it mixed with the screams of those monsters.    
  
**> >What the fuck is going on?!<<** ****  
  
My lungs burned from how fast I was running and then I tripped over myself, toppled to the ground, felt the cool tip of a rock slice through the fabric of my jeans and tear the flesh of my knee open. My body ached like all holy hell, the dirt and leaves gathered under my hands; the Earth painted on my face. I peered up and saw a small group of deer; a stag stood in the center; its antlers great and outstretched towards the heavens. And then it spoke to me, well, spoke to me in my mind and I instantly felt safe.    
  
"You are protected, hunter," it told me then the heard sprinted off into the darkness.   
  
I limped my way back to my motorcycle and headed back to my motel. I threw open the door, tossed my keys onto the bed as I hobbled to the sink to clean the dirt from my face. As the mixture of mud and water swirled down the drain, thoughts of what transpired in the woods ate at me.    
  
**> >What were those things? How did it know to look like Dean? What the hell was up with those deer and coyotes? What the hell did I walk into?<<**   
  
I dragged my duffle bag close to my feet, rummaged through my clothes and weapons and pulled out my small zipped black bag that carried all my medical items. I took out a small roll of gauze, a small bottle of alcohol, a curved needle, and thread. I also fished out my half empty bottle of Jack, unscrewed the cap and took a couple of gulps. The sweet amber whiskey burned my throat, but it was nothing compared to what I was about to put myself through. I carefully pulled my pants down, poured some of the alcohol over the exposed wound, and it took everything I had not to punch a hole in the wall.  I dug the tip of the curved needle into my skin, grit my teeth as the thin metal curved through my skin as the thread followed through the small puncture. My fingers trembled as I continued to stitch the gash in my knee, I snatched a pillow and muffled my cries. I couldn’t remember the last time I had to stitch up my wound. I moved as fast as my wavering hands would allow, stopped only to consume more whiskey to ease the pain. I slammed the bloody tools onto the nightstand and fell back on the mattress, exhausted and out of breath. My hand spread over my stomach, and I debated whether I wanted to call Sam back, tell him about the incident and the new creature I encountered but it was late, and I still needed to shower before I headed to bed. I discarded my dirty clothes to the corner of the room, took a soothing warm shower, only slammed my fist against the tiles twice. I stared at the ceiling and patiently waited for sleep to claim me. 

 

The next morning I felt like I got hit by a freight train; my body was sore, my head throbbed, my knee ached, and it didn’t help that I didn’t sleep well because of the pain, and I had nightmares. I couldn’t remember what they were about but it was enough to scare the ever living out of me, and I woke up several times because of it. I sat up, yawned, rubbed the sleep from my eyes and remembered I hadn’t put my phone on the charger the night before. 

 

“God damn it,” I cursed as I leaned over the edge and wiggled my phone out of my back pocket and plugged it into the charger. I flopped back on to the pillow; my arm draped over my eyes as I let out a heavy sigh. I turned my head slowly over to the side, watched as my screen illuminated with missed messages and calls. I had missed two calls from Sam, and he left me a voicemail to listen to. I threw the covers off of my body and went through my normal morning routine, cleaned my stitches and wrapped fresh gauze around it, got dressed, and packed my belongings. After everything had been said and done, I sat back down, picked up my phone and listened to his message.

 

_ Hey, I guess you were asleep. I hope you wrap up your hunt soon because the Bunker isn’t the same with you here!  _

 

His little chuckle was adorable, and it made me smile.

 

_ Anyway, just wanted to see how you were doing and how your hunt went. Call me when you can, ok? Alright… bye. _

 

**> >You still need to tell him, you know… Shut up.<<**

 

I waited until my phone was at least 20% charged and then I could finish charging it during breakfast. I slung my bag across my body, left a tip for housekeeping and saddled up onto my bike. I drove to Austin, heard a lot about the city, and stopped at a chill place called 24 Hour Diner. I sat outside near an outlet to charge my phone ordered myself a hearty breakfast, a cup of coffee and a glass of water. I propped my elbow on the table, rested my cheek against my fist as I dialed Sam’s number.

 

“Hello?”

 

His voice was gruff and hoarse.

 

“Sam, it’s me. Did I wake you?”

 

“No, no, I was getting up anyway,” he lied.

 

“If this is a bad time I-”

 

“No, really, it’s fine.”

 

“Hm, okay, if you say so,” I smiled, took a sip of my coffee, “Sorry I missed your calls last night. I forgot to put my phone on the charger after my hunt and-”

 

“Oh, how’d that go? Are you ok?”

 

“Actually, do you think you can look up something for me?”

 

“Of course, what do you need?”

 

“Look up anything you can find on creatures that congregate in the woods. Dancing, wine, spring time, anything involving that stuff.”

 

“Yeah, just give me a minute, my laptop is in the library, and I’m still in my room,” he yawned.

 

“Yeah, no rush, when you can.”

 

I swirled my straw around in my glass, a slight tremor in my right leg, and I couldn’t stop licking my lips. He put me on hold for a little bit as he brushed his teeth and got himself ready for the day. The waitress finally brought my food over and assured me if I needed her, she’d be around. I dug my fork into the fluffy eggs to break up the mound, took a bite of the greasy, crispy bacon and released a soft moan at the taste on my tongue

 

“Hey, you still there?”

 

“Yes,” I muffed as I swallowed the piece of toast in my mouth. 

 

“Alright, let me see what I have for you.”

 

I could hear him typing on his laptop; pages roughly flipped in one of the many old books. He huffed and mumbled under his breath, murmured to himself as he read certain passages and text out loud. 

 

“I think I found something.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“It’s a small chapter, I almost missed it actually, it’s about a page long, but there’s these creatures called Maenads. In Greek Mythology, they were essentially followers of Dionysus, the God of Wine and Fertility. Maenads are typically raving women who dance and drink in a ritualistic, ecstatic, frenzy in honor of Dionysus. When provoked, they have immense agility and power and are known to rip apart animals and eat their hearts. There isn’t much else on it, though.”

 

“Maenads, huh? Interesting…”

 

I took another gulp of my coffee, shoveled some more eggs into my mouth.

 

“What happened last night?”

 

“I was hunting for what I thought were werewolves, and I heard this...laughter in the distance and it was like it called to me.” My mind began to wander back to that moment; I could still smell the burning logs, and the faint smell of bittersweet wine wafted around me.  “So I followed it, came upon a site of women dancing around and drinking, and it was like their laughter put me in a daze.The next thing I knew I…” The memory of me throwing myself into Dean’s arms in a passionate frenzy flashed in my mind, and I didn’t feel comfortable telling Sam about that or about the fact that I saw an image of him and that’s what pulled me out. 

 

“What happened next?”

 

“So, um, I got out of whatever haze they put me in, shot at it and it didn’t work, and I took off running into the woods.

 

“Huh…” 

 

I shoveled more of my food into my mouth; my cheeks felt exceedingly warm.

 

“Is there something about wild dogs or deer being able to fend them off?” I inquired.

 

“No, why?”

 

“Well, I got tackled by one of those things and a coyote came out of nowhere and saved me. Then there was a herd of deer I stumbled upon and… it was like they were talking to me.”

 

“What do you mean talking to you?”

 

“Like I could hear a voice inside my head, and it wasn’t my own.”

 

“What did it say?”

 

“It said ‘ _ You are protected here, hunter.’ _ It was the strangest thing.”

 

Sam paused for a moment as I finished the rest of my breakfast. I sat back in my seat, full and satisfied with my choice of food, the waitress came by and topped my coffee off and asked if there was anything else I needed. 

 

“You know, Artemis was the Greek Goddess of the Hunt and Wild Animals; maybe it was her that was protecting you?”

 

“Artemis? Really?” I quipped unenthused.

 

“In our line work, it’s really not that unbelievable.”

 

“Huh..I had someone looking out for me…” I shrugged, dumbfounded.

 

“Well, these Maenads sound like nasty things, so I’m glad you got out of it ok. How did you get out of that fantasy world anyway?”

 

My mouth fell open slightly as I tried to come up with a viable reason in seconds.

 

“Well, it was probably Artemis helping me out…?”

 

I chewed on my bottom lip in hopes that he believed my lie, and he did. 

 

“So, now that you’re done with your case, when are you heading back home?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, Sam, about that, I-”

 

“Wait hold on.”

 

He covered the speaker with his hand, but I could still make out muffled sounds. He shouted Dean’s name and then went silent, more shuffling and then a soft thumping sound; he must have placed the phone over his chest.

 

“Cas what are you- what happened?” Sam said perturbed.

 

“He got into an alter-” Cas murmured. I could barely hear what he was saying, but I knew it wasn’t good.

 

“Sam, what’s going on? Hello?”

 

They talked amongst each other, Cas asked about me and my whereabouts, and Dean mumbled something incoherently.

 

“Hey, hello? You still there?” Sam asked.

 

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

 

“It’s Dean. He got into some kind of fight last night.”

 

“Is he ok?”

 

“He’ll be fine, I'm sure. I'm gonna let you go so I can attend to Rocky over here. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

 

“Wait, Sam-”

 

He hung up before I could get another word in edgewise. I groaned as I rubbed my eyes, drummed my fingertips against the table. I wanted to tell him sooner rather than later.

 

**> >Probably should have told him before you left. Shut up.<<**

 

I opened the maps app on my phone and stared at the endless possibilities of my next destination. I could go anywhere I pleased, anywhere in the country and yet I found myself constantly going back to Kansas. The Maenad messed with my head, and I felt like it set me back a bit in my attempt to get over Dean. Everything felt so real, though; from the look in his eyes to the touch of his hands on my body, but it was all a beautiful, horrible illusion.

 

**> >Dean would never have done that. He didn’t even know where you were going. I know, I know.<<**

 

I thought long hard about where I wanted to go, a place that wasn’t Kansas, and I set my sights on Dallas. I remembered frequenting the city when I was a kid; we lived just outside the big city. Dallas was almost like another home, and it made my heart ache at the nostalgia it brought on. 

  
“Ok, Dallas it is.”


	5. Say You Need Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit long but I wanted to thank those of you who've left me comments! They really make me smile. And all I can say is patience, dearies. Patience is a virtue. Good things are coming! The next chapter isn't ready and won't be a for a while so I hope this holds y'all til then. :)

Dallas was much bigger than I had remembered. Naturally, the city grew over time but it was truly a sight to see. I stayed at a Motel 6 off of I-30 that was decently priced and only a short drive away from downtown. I dropped my things off at my room and gave myself a tour of the city. My memories were a bit fuzzy from the concussions and head injuries I had accumulated through the years but the feelings the scenery stirred brought a smile to my face. I drove out west, past the city to the suburbs, and drove by the house I had briefly lived in. Of course, there was a new family inhabiting it; a family of four, a dog, two cars in the driveway, living the life I wished I had. By no means did I resent my parents or the life I led but my head swiveled and flipped upside down because of the whole Dean situation and the ordeal in the woods and the small interaction I had with Aidan the week prior. I was overwhelmed with so many unexpressed emotions. I just wanted to be happy. I wanted to love and be loved by someone. How my parents made it work; I wish I knew. The sadness started to eat at me again and I became painfully aware of how lonely I truly was. I drove back to my motel, slammed the door shut behind me, and felt my chest constrict as the sadness crawled up my body towards my eyes. There I was; sitting in a cheap motel room, no case, no boyfriend, no home. I found myself longing for that feeling of happiness, freedom, euphoria that I only ever felt when I was with Dean, as the Maenads so graciously reminded me. I missed him. I missed him so much. I  _ hated _ that I missed him so much because I was unsure if I made the right choice. I paced around my room, struggled and fought over whether I should call him. I just wanted to hear his voice again, tell him I was a fool to throw us away so quickly. I pulled up his name on my phone, stared at the picture of him on my screen, and raked my teeth against my bottom lip. 

 

**> >You left for a reason. You weren’t happy.<<**

 

“I just want to know how he’s doing…” I whispered. 

 

_ “You can do whatever you want. I won’t hold you back anymore.” _

 

I bit my nails, shoved my phone into my back pocket, and jingled the keys in my palm. I started to roughly rub the skin over my heart, attempted to soothe the ache as his words echoed in my mind. “He didn’t fight for me...” I said defiantly. I grabbed my bag, emptied the contents onto the bed except for my wallet, slung it around my body and went out to get some clothes and alcohol. I wasn’t quite ready to deal with it all, I wasn’t willing to let myself be broken and vulnerable, not yet. I drove over to the nearest Target, perused until I found a pair of jeans that weren’t skinny cut, slowly made my way to the food area and grabbed a few snacks. I took out my phone and swiped my thumb across the screen.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey, sorry about earlier.”

 

“Sam, you don’t have to apologize…” I paused, “How is he?” I shook my head, squeezed my eyes tight, roughly scratched my brow, and berated myself for asking. 

 

“He’s been through worse. He’ll be ok.”

 

“Oh...good. That’s good.”

 

I walked over to the seasonal area, sat at one of the lavish patio sets, crossed my damaged knee over the other.

 

“So… how is he...really?”

 

Sam sighed heavily before he spoke, a couple of silent moments passed. 

 

“You know how Dean is; he doesn’t know how to express his emotions without tearing into someone, which is usually me. And if I’m not around to take his hits, he’s destroying something near him, or destroying himself.”

 

“Why does he always have to be so temperamental?”

 

“Well-”

 

“Why can’t he just express his emotions without violence, just say what he feels?” 

 

**> >You should take your own advice. Shut up.<<**

 

“Because that’s not who Dean is. Our dad wasn’t the easiest man to talk to about affairs of the heart, you know. Dad was strict, distant, cold and was always hard on Dean for everything and in many ways, he’s a lot like him.”

 

“Make sure Dean never hears you say that,” I smirked. 

 

“Yeah, yeah but… he’s processing the only way he knows how ” he concluded.

 

I nodded my head, drew circle patterns into my thigh. 

 

“Hey, so, um, when are you heading back?”

 

**> >Come on, you have to do it. You have to tell him.<<**

 

I scratched behind my ear; my stomach knotted on itself, and my tongue felt dry. Every time I opened my mouth to speak, the words fell flat. 

 

“Hello? You still there?”

 

“Yeah, um, sorry. What did you say?”

 

“I asked when you're coming home.”

 

“Right about that…” I couldn’t hide the quiver in my voice and Sam picked it up immediately.  

 

“What's wrong? What's going on?” He asked timidly. 

 

I took in a deep breath and plowed through the awkwardness of the situation.

 

“Sam, I’m not coming back.”

 

“...What do you mean? Like not tonight or-”

 

“No. I’m not coming back at all.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Come on, Sam; you know why.”

 

I gathered my belongings, rushed over to the self-checkout area, paid, shoved everything into my bag all the while Sam was silent. I stood next to my motorcycle, gripped the seat, created little scratches in the leather as the wind blew my bangs back and forth across my forehead.

 

“Sam, please say something,” I pleaded.

 

“I, um… I don’t know what to say,” he whispered.

 

“Do you hate me?”

 

“No, I could never hate you…” he mumbled.

 

“Well, tell me how you feel. Are you angry or sad-”

 

“I’m-!” he huffed slowly, regained his composure, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 

 

The timber in his voice was calm but icy as if Hell froze over his tremendous, giving heart. It sent chills through my body. A raging bull is easy to counteract; his movements are predictable, but when someone is so consumed with anger that it renders them still or quiet, I didn’t know whether to apologize profusely or run for the hills. I preferred Dean’s anger to Sam’s, at least I knew what was to come.

 

“I couldn’t...I didn’t know how to tell you.”

 

“... I need to let you go...” 

 

“Sam, please-”

 

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said bluntly. 

 

**> >Give him time, he’ll come around. What if he doesn’t? He’s not Dean.<<**

 

He hung up on me but I couldn’t blame him. I tucked my phone into my pocket, drove to the nearest Twin Liquors and bought myself a fresh bottle of Jack and a big bottle of tequila. Everyone processes pain, grief, and anger in different ways. When my parents died, I shacked up with an older man, got a tattoo, “borrowed” a motorcycle and drank my weight in liquor for nights on end. I was older but some habits were hard to break. I drove back to my motel, carefully displayed my vices next to the tv, threw my hair into a bun, changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. When I took a moment to pause, I realized I was beat from the drive, exhausted from the hunt and the lack of a good night’s rest. I placed my phone on the charger on the nightstand, pulled the dated blue comforter off the bed, and slid under the paper thin sheet. I curled into fetal position, tucked my arm under one of the pillows and took a nap. I had the strangest dream if I could even call it that. I relived certain moments in my relationship with Dean. It was rather voyeuristic; I stood on the sidelines as I watched helplessly, unable to change a single detail or event. I stood idly by as I asked him, out of respect, if I could go on a hunt with him. At that point, my wounds had healed and I was with struck with cabin fever and couldn’t pass up another case that I knew I could handle and help him with. It wasn’t difficult, hardly even a dangerous one; vengeful spirits, I had dealt with vengeful spirits since I was kid, it was a walk in the park for me. But Dean was stubborn, his jaw locked in place as he sternly told me no. I had been asking him for weeks to let me go and every time he declined my request but I wasn’t going to accept his answer that time. I questioned his reasoning but it didn’t matter what he told me; I was going on that hunt. I was so proud of myself for standing up to him, but then I remembered that I didn’t go with him; I never went on that hunt. Dean stopped me the only way he knew how; he grabbed my hand as I was leaving his room and pressed his lips against mine and I could feel and taste his concern, his worry, his love for me. It was intense and passionate like fire under my skin and I adored that feeling, needed it and sought it out. All it took was one raw kiss and it kept me satisfied and complacent. I stayed back, did the boring book stuff, my attitude changed, everything about me that was me; changed. I lost myself in him. My memories bloomed and wilted like a rose before me and it crossed my mind again; did I make the right choice? Could I blame him for wanting to keep me safe after I had nearly died in front of him? He harbored so much anguish in his soul, he had been through so much; could I really blame him for wanting to protect the one good thing in his life? We were happy once, maybe I wasn’t patient enough, maybe I didn’t try hard enough. Then that night played itself out and I watched as he did absolutely nothing to stop me from leaving. No words, no gestures, just silence. The tears seeped from my eyes as I yelled and screamed at him to go after me, to stop me, to fight for us but in the end; I still packed up my things, got on my bike and left that part of my life behind. 

 

My eyes flew open as my phone begged and pleaded to be answered. Groggy from sleep, I snatched my phone, pressed the volume button on the side, placed it back down and fell against the pillows and fought to go back to sleep. My phone went off again, I loudly groaned, and rolled away from the nightstand. The room was silent for a moment and then that fucking thing went off again.

 

**> >I just want to sleep. Just a little fucking nap. Is that too much to ask?<<**

 

It rang a third time, and I had reached my breaking point. I rolled back over, pulled my phone off the charger and froze when I saw Dean’s picture on the screen. 

 

**> >What are you doing? Answer it!<<**

 

I licked my lips and was about to swipe, but it was too late. I stared at the missed calls, too much of a chicken shit to return them. I slowly placed my phone back down onto the nightstand, and I stared at the ceiling, overwhelmed with thoughts of him, my dream, and the weight of it all. My thoughts were cut short when a little chime advised me that I had a new message waiting for me; a voicemail from Dean. I turned on my side, stared vacantly at my phone, a chill roved my body as I debated on whether I wanted to listen to his message. 

 

**> >What are you waiting for? This is what you wanted.<<**

 

I sat up, held my phone in the palm of my hand and continued to stare at it as if I could will it to make a choice for me. I rose to my feet, sauntered over to the display of alcohol and picked the bottle of tequila. I twisted the cap off and gulped a double shots worth of it and winced at the raw burn. I slammed the bottle down on the dresser, cursed Heaven and Hell and the world’s existence. I immediately regretted the decision and knew I just had to rip it off like a band-aid. What was the worse that could happen?

 

**> >What if he wants you back? What if he called to apologize? What if he hates me? What if he’s done with me?<<**

 

I didn’t need the alcohol; I didn’t need to drive myself crazy with thoughts of ‘What if’, the solution was simple; I needed to release my fear and just listen to his message. I hopped on to the dresser next to my booze, wanted it close just in case, inhaled sharply, brought the phone to my ear and heard him out. 

 

_ “Look, I um… fuck wished you picked up the phone, so I didn’t have to talk into this damn recording… Why didn’t you answer my calls?”  _ He paused for a moment; I could hear him inhaling and exhaling to fill the void,  _ “I called because… Sam told me you weren’t- you’re not...you’re not coming back...”  _ His voice drifted off, and I swear I heard him sniffle, maybe I imagined it. _ “God...why didn’t you answer the phone? I hate this! I hate that I’m- I want to talk to you, but you didn’t answer your god damn phone, and now I have to- this would be so much easier to tell you, to actually tell you. Fuck… Ok, I wanted to say-” _

 

The message was cut short and I was left in the dark. I closed my eyes slowly, felt the tears tickle at my lashes, the despair and sadness yanked my heart into the depths of the unknown. A part of me wanted to call him back, find out what words were lost to the silence, but the other part of me felt that if he truly wanted me to know the end of that message, he would have called back and done so. It was a bitter pill to swallow; to know that it was over between us. Dean didn’t apologize and he didn’t try to convince me to come back home. I meant everything I said to him but I still had a sliver of hope that we would get through our bullshit but alas, that wasn’t my reality. I jiggled my phone in my hand and threw it across the room, my fingers curled around the edge of the dresser as I rocked back and forth, sucked my lips in as I finally accepted the end and all the emotions with it. My shoulders shook as I began to sob uncontrollably. I slid off the ledge, grabbed the bottle of tequila, carried myself to the bed and began the first stage of my process; drinking profusely and resigning from the world. I repeated my routine for the next few days; I never left my room, hardly ate anything, Hell, I barely even showered. 

 

One day, I opened the door to House Keeping, my vocal chords were shot from crying and my poor diet so I couldn’t tell them to leave. The older woman looked me up and down as I stood in front of her with a bottle of Jack in my hand, in a stained shirt and shorts, my stitches exposed, and the smell of Death seeped out of my room. She gave me a stack of towels, no expression of disgust on her wrinkled ebony skin but a look of empathy instead.

 

“You’ll get through this, honey.”

 

She smiled at me, gave me a little nod then took her cart and walked away. I watched her leave, shrunk back into my room, and kicked the door closed behind me. I tossed the stack of towels next to the tv but her words resonated with me. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stared at my reflection. I slowly advanced towards the mirror, placed the bottle of Jack on the dresser, and took in the sight of myself. My skin was splotchy and discolored, my hair was oily, dirty, and hung limply around my face, my bruises were yellow and green, I looked frail, and my eyes were bloodshot. I lifted my chin, exhaled a heavy breath, drummed my fingers against my hip bones. My eyes drifted to the script lettering etched on my ribs. I curled my fingers under the hem of my shirt, lifted the fabric up to get a better look at my tattoo. During my self-sabotage after my parents died, I got the words ‘Vincit qui se vincit’ which translates to ‘he conquers who conquers himself’ as a reminder that the hardest monster I will ever face will always be me. I grazed my fingers over the words, grimaced as I dropped the hem of my shirt. 

 

“Ok.”

 

I took my hair down, stripped down to nothing, turned the bath on, and waited for the water to warm. I sauntered over to the pile of clothes and old towels and dug out my phone and put it to charge. I stepped into the shower, took a hold of that tiny little bar of soap and smoothed it over my entire body. I massaged the small bottle of shampoo into the roots of my hair, closed my eyes as the water rained over me. I turned the faucet off, raked my hair to the side, twisted it around my hand to take out the excess moisture. I carefully stepped out of the tub, dripped water all over the tile floor, walked to the stack of fresh towels and wrapped one around my body.  I took a seat on the edge of the bed, crossed my leg over my right, and set my phone in my lap. I held down the power button on the side as the screen illuminated my face. 

 

My phone shook with every missed message and call I received while I checked out from the world. I set my phone on the pillows and started to dress myself. I walked into the bathroom, plugged in the small Conair blow dryer, flipped my head upside down and dry my hair. After about fifteen minutes, I turned the blow dryer off and flipped my head up, gave my hair a schmoozing with my fingers. I waltzed back up to my phone, ignored the texts from Sam and Cas and immediately checked the weather, opened other apps until I bit the bullet and read the messages. Castiel only sent two messages; he asked where I was and then understood that I must be grieving. Sam texted me several times, a good chunk of them were just him checking in, told me he really missed me, wished there was a way to bring me back home. His last message really tugged at the old heartstrings. He wrote, ‘ _ From your lack of responses, I guess your phone is off. I know you need time and space and I will give that to you. Just know I am here when you are ready to talk or not talk. I really miss you and if I believed that was enough to bring you back home, I would say it until I was blue in the face. I’m trying not to worry about you, I know you can take care of yourself but… just send me a line, please, whenever you’re ready.’  _  Sometimes I wished Sam wasn’t so open about his feelings but at least I would never have to wonder where I stood or where his mind was at. I tapped my thumbs against the screen, tried to figure out what to say to him. After several beats of silence passed I settled with ‘Thank you’ and that was that. Then, without actually thinking, I dialed Dean’s number.

 

**> >Whoa, wait what are you doing? Are you ready for this?<<**

 

The phone rang and rang, my hand trembled with anticipation. I didn’t have a game plan if he answered or if he didn’t answer; I was flying by the seat of pants, winging it so to speak. His phone just kept on ringing until I heard his voice welcoming me to his inbox. I licked my lips, gnawed on the corner of my mouth as I closed my eyes, tried to muster every ounce of courage I had to me and took in a deep breath.

 

“Hey...I’m sor...I know we both said some really shitty things to each other and…” I don’t know what came over me; I was suddenly filled with some much anger and pain and I wanted him to know that. “God, I’ve been destroying myself for you and you don’t-! Do you have any idea how much-! You call me and leave that  _ riveting _ voicemail but then nothing!” I squeezed the bridge of my nose, brought myself back down because I needed to move forward and not dwell on the past. Yelling and cursing at him wouldn’t change anything. “Look, I didn’t call to start this crap all over again, I called to tell you... This will be the last time I will contact you because I can’t...  _ torture  _ myself with thoughts of you and you can’t turn back time.” A couple of tears slid down my cheeks as I continued. “I know… _ this _ ended badly but know that you deserve happiness and love, Dean. You may be a pain in the ass, stubborn as a mule, and the first time I met you I thought you were a dick but you’re so much more than that. You’re a good man, Dean Winchester.  I know you don’t believe it but you are, you really are. Take care of yourself.”

 

I tapped on the little red button and exhaled a shaky breath. It was hard, but it was something I felt compelled to do, and I didn’t regret it. I had a long, arduous journey ahead of me but with each passing day, I hoped I would be one step closer to letting go, for my heart to not tense and break when my mind occasionally wandered to him. But, who’s to say that maybe down the road, years from now, we couldn’t try again if the timing was right. I was a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, regardless if it’s good or bad. I felt weirdly optimistic that maybe, just maybe, something better was in store for me.


	6. Home Is Where Ever I'm with You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this coming out so late. A lot has been going on in my personal life. But, again, I appreciate all of you lovely people taking the time to read this. It means a lot to me. :)

Since the day I closed the chapter on my relationship with Dean, I gradually found my footing in the hunting world again. I travelled from city to city, state to state, revisited some old hunters and met some new ones as well. I was starting to feel like my old self again but a better version, the 2.0 version.  I stopped in McLain, Mississippi to visit some old hunter friends of my parents; Blake and Tina. I recalled spending some time in their home when I was younger, even had Thanksgiving at their place with my parents when I was fifteen. Blake was a robust, crass, southern born and raised woman. She had soft wavy brown hair that hovered a couple of inches above her square shoulders, small beady blue eyes with a thin haze in her left eye. Blake trudged around the house with a slight limp because of a childhood accident that she had told me about on more than one occasion. Even in her age, she took painstaking care of their home from mowing the lawn to climbing the roof to repair broken shingles. I often sat outside on the wide, wooden porch with her, bottle of beer in hand as she told me stories of her hunting days but only referred to them as her glory days after she met Tina. We would talk and talk until the sun set on the horizon; the crickets came to life and the yard illuminated by the spurt of light from Lightning Bugs. Tina would holler at us from the kitchen, the heavenly aroma of food filled the home and seeped through the screen door. We always enjoyed dinner at a large, oak table together, my fingers always grazed the little markings in the wood from guests before me and just wear and tear through the years. Dinner was seldom interrupted by one of the hanging phones in the kitchen. Every now and then someone in the Network would call for information or needed one of them to stand as a fake FBI agent, and they handled every call like a pro. It was a warm summer evening; the windows were open, and a soft breeze blew through the living room, aided the ceiling fan in cooling the temperature of the house, pictures on the mantle glowed in the light as we sat around the small coffee table basking in each other’s company. I had wrapped up a crossroads demon case a few days prior but was in no rush to leave quite yet. I propped my feet up on the armrest of the petit, grey couch, a cup of coffee with a dash of whiskey in my hand as it rested on my stomach, my left arm fixed behind my head. 

 

“You look just like your mother,” Tina said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. Tina was a petite, wiry looking woman with long sandy brown hair that she always fashioned into a side braid. She was incredibly sweet and quite affectionate with me, but she still had her wits about her and was quick as hell with a gun. 

 

“Nah, she looks way more like her father,” Blake interjected.

 

“Hon, you’re going blind, she looks like her mother!”

 

I turned my head to them and giggled at their minor squabble, found it endearing in fact. After about five minutes of their back and forth banter, they settled upon a truce and sealed it with a small kiss. I stared at them and felt a twinge of envy in my heart; they had something I wanted, and they had held on to it for years, and yet they still looked at each other with wonder and unconditional love, it was the same look my parents had. The four of them should have written a book and sold it to young, stubborn hunters and titled it  _ How To Love a Hunter and Not Fuck It Up. _

 

“So Honey B, where ya headed after this?” Blake asked as she took a swig of her cold beer.

 

“I don’t know,” I exhaled a happy moan, “I’ve just been driving around to different cities, working on some cases here and there but I don’t have a destination in mind right now.”

 

“Oh, didn’t you use to live with them Winchesters?”

 

Blake slowly turned her head to her wife’s blithely inappropriate question, shot her a warned glance before she looked over at me. Tina brought her hand to her mouth, seemed like a deer caught in headlights, and apologized profusely.

 

“No, no, it’s fine,” I chuckled lightly, “Guess y’all knew about that, huh?”

 

“Well anything that happens to those boys travels fast in the Network,” replied Blake.

 

“Yeah, I forgot,” I smirked, “but umm, yeah, I stayed with them for a while, a couple of years.”

 

There was a hint of sadness in my voice that didn’t go unnoticed. Usually, I would ridicule myself for letting that kind of thing slip out, but I was trying to grow and heal and with that; I had to accept that sometimes the pain would show and pulsate in my heart. 

 

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t pry,” Tina cooed, leaned forward and outstretched her hand to me on the table. I met her kind gesture with my own, gave her hand a faint squeeze with a thin smile.

 

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” I retracted my hand to its place behind my head, “It’s been almost six months since I left and… it’s getting easier,” I shrugged.

 

“You look good; you sound like you’ve been taking real good care of yourself,” Blake lifted her can to me and chugged the remaining contents. Tina didn’t seem the least bit satisfied by my answer; she scooted to the edge of the couch, clasped her hands in her lap and tilted her head to the side with an incredulous look on her face. I placed my mug on the table, turned on my side and tucked my knees in ever so slightly, brushed a couple of strands away from my eyes. 

 

“Which one was he?”

 

“Dean… Dean Winchester.” I cast my eyes down just for a moment, felt every emotion that came with that name; happiness, anger, sadness, lust, all of it. I peered up at her with a wry smile and exhaled sharply. 

 

“How long were you two…”

 

“About a year and a half. Everything you heard about him is entirely true and complete horse shit,” I chuckled softly.

 

“We really don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want-”

 

“No, it’s ok, I promise. He’s part of my past now. I can’t pretend he didn’t exist, or he didn’t mean anything to me. I haven’t talked about him since then. Guess it still hurts a little,” I shrugged.

 

“Miss him, Honey B?” Blake asked, her tone was how one would speak to an abandoned child.

 

“Yeah, sometimes. I miss the way he used to make me feel, you know before everything went up in flames. But, I’m taking each day in stride, just have to feel the emotions then move on.”

 

I pushed myself up onto the armrest, tucked my legs underneath me as my eyes casually roamed the room. Tina rose to her feet, stretched her body to and fro, took Blake’s empty can from her palm and gave her shoulder a light squeeze as she exited to the kitchen. I watched her leave then met Blake’s empathetic gaze. 

 

“You know, you are more than welcome to stay with us as long as you need to. ”

 

“Thanks but,” I took a few gulps of my coffee and set the mug back down, “I don’t want to be a burden-”

 

“You’ll never be a burden on us. You’re family, baby girl.”

 

“Alright, I might stay for a couple more days,” I smiled.

 

“You can stay forever if you wanted to!” she hollered.

 

I giggled at her response, raked my hair over one shoulder, and started to braid it. To be stationary for a while was an enticing idea. Being on the road again was great, I was partially grateful that Dean forced me to stay behind because I had grown into smarter, stronger hunter. Because I had read pages and pages of lore, learned new methods and tactics to use, used sigils, which would have looked like scribbles to me when I was younger, that I was now a force to be reckoned with. 

 

“You know, Honey B,” her knees creaked as she came to a stand, she walked towards me and placed a kiss atop my head.

 

“Yeah?” I tied off the end of my braid; I peered up into her calming, deep eyes.

 

“One day, you’re gonna find someone who’ll run with you. I promise.” She gingerly stroked my cheek with her thumb then joined her wife in the kitchen. 

 

I stared at the wooden floorboards, ran my tongue along my bottom lip as her words echoed in my mind. I got up briskly, pushed the screen door and sat on the banister, my back rested against the white painted pillar. My leg hung over the ledge, dangled in the breeze as I folded my arms across my chest. The world was quiet and still and it was beautiful. The silence was disturbed by the ringing of my phone. I fished it out of my pocket and slid my thumb across the screen.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey, how’s it going?”

 

“Good, just, relaxing, believe it or not,” I chuckled lightly.

 

“You relaxing? I call bullshit.”

 

I had grown accustomed to my late night chats with Sam. At first, I felt awkward about continuing to have some kind of relationship with him but all of that soon faded and we carried on like we always did. Sure, in the beginning, it was difficult because I would ask about Dean against my better judgment or I’d call Sam crying because I drank just a touch too much. Sam took it all in stride, was always patient with me and helped me as best he could. 

 

“Shut up,” I teased, “So, what’s going on? Where are you?”

 

“We’re in Dayton, Tennessee working on a case.”

 

“Oh, what are you tracking?”

 

“Wraiths I think. Strange happenings at a nursing home it seems similar to a case Dean and I worked on years ago.”

 

“Well, bring plenty of silver and don’t let it touch you,” I advised with a cheeky grin. 

 

Sam chuckled at my advice, and I genuinely smiled at his laughter. 

 

“So where are you? Last we talked, you were in... Missouri?”

 

“Wow, has it been that long? I was in Missouri last week. I'm in Mississippi now, gonna be here for a while longer.”

 

“What’s in Mississippi?”

 

“Family. Well, family friends but still; family. I was working a crossroads demon case a few days ago, and I’ve been staying with Blake and Tina.”

 

“Who are they?”

 

“Hunter friends of my folks. They’re the closest thing I have to a family. They don’t hunt anymore, they answer calls, give intel-”

 

“Oh, like Bobby.”

 

His voice dropped towards the end of his sentence, and I wished I could wrap him in my arms. I knew how much Bobby meant to both him and Dean. Sam cleared his throat before he pressed on. 

 

“So, if you aren’t doing anything, do you want to meet us in Tennessee? We could hunt together; for old time’s sake.”

 

“No, that’s ok,” I brushed off.

 

“Are you sure? We're probably going to be here for a while.”

 

“Sam…”

 

It's not that I didn't want to see him or help with their case, I did, but I didn't trust myself to be around Dean. I thought I was completely over him but from the interaction I had earlier, I knew I wasn't there yet. I heard him exhale slowly, and I did the same. 

 

“Sorry. It's just...I miss you.”

 

“I know. I miss you too, Sammy.”

 

**> >Sammy? You never call him Sammy.<<**

 

“I’d love to help y’all out, but… I’m not- I don’t think I can-”

 

“No, it’s ok. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

 

“Please, let me finish” I sighed and cleared the clutter from my mind. “I thought this whole  _ thing _ was behind me, and I was wrong. I just need more time.”

 

“I understand. Take all the time you need.”

 

His autonomy always made me smile. I was never one for talking about myself, let alone my parents and my past but I was so comfortable with Sam, and he knew it; he continued to ask me questions that led to another story, another moment, another memory. Everything was just simple with him. I moved our conversation to the backroom where I was staying for the remainder of my visit, and we chatted for hours before I let him go. I showered, got ready for bed, and curled up underneath the navy blue quilt as I nuzzled my face into the pillows. I started to drift into the realm of sleep with a satisfied smile on my face.

  
  


The next few days, I led a domestic life; I mowed the lawn, cooked, cleaned, I even helped Blake with the shingles on the roof. One thing I knew for sure; the Mississippi heat and humidity was nothing to play with; the thermometer said it was ninety degrees but with the humidity being so high it felt more like a hundred. 

 

“Jesus Christ, it’s hot! How do you stand it?” I complained while I sat perched on the roof with Blake as we took a small break, cold beers in hand.

 

“It ain’t all that bad,” she replied.

 

“No, it’s fucking hot. There’s no breeze; there’s no clouds in sight like this is the closest I ever want to be to Hell.”

 

“My God, you sound like your momma,” she snickered.

 

I took a long sip of my beer; it tasted extra cold on my tongue because of the heat of the outdoors. I scratched at an itch on my collar bone, relieved I wore a white tank top and shorts instead of my usual attire. I wiped the sweat from my brow, Blake nudged me with her shoulder and smirked at me. 

 

“How you doin', Honey B?”

 

“I’m good.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Mm-hmm. It’s been great here…”

 

“But?”

 

I smirked and took another drink.

 

“You’re not happy, are you?”

 

“No, I am happy at least I think I’m happy.” I fumbled over my words.

 

“Honey B, I get it. I know you love us, but we’re not enough for you.”

 

She draped an arm around and roped me in close, placed a kiss on the side of my forehead. I felt bad, but she was right; staying back wasn’t for me but traveling alone wasn’t fulfilling either. I needed someone to run with me. 

 

**> >Fuck. How does someone like me even meet someone like me?<<**

 

“What are you thinking about, baby girl?”

 

“Um..nothing. I think I’m going to head inside and take a shower, go for a drive.”

 

I gave her a warm smile, rose to my feet and walked to the ledge and down the ladder. I trudged into the house, made my way into the kitchen where Tina was talking to someone on the phone as she mixed a pitcher of lemonade. I walked by her, made myself a nice tall glass of ice water and chugged it down as she put the phone on the receiver.

 

“How’s it goin’, honey?”

 

“Good, I’m gonna shower up and go for a drive.”

 

“Everything ok?”

 

“Yeah, of course. Just wanna feel the wind in my hair again, explore a bit.”

 

“Oh, you’re getting restless, huh?”

 

“A little,” I laughed.

 

“Well,” she moved past me and placed the big pitcher in the refrigerator then wiped her hands on the towel by the sink. She leaned against the counter, her arms across her chest and looked at me incredulously. I smirked with a raised brow and placed my empty glass in the sink.

 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I chuckled uncomfortably.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

“Yeah, what is it?”

 

“What’s the deal with you and Sam?”

 

“Um, what?” My eyes grew big, and my mouth fell open slightly. I fixed my hands on my hips as I rested a majority of my weight on my right leg.

 

“You and Sam. What’s going on there?”

 

“Um, nothing,” I giggled awkwardly.

 

“Sweety, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

 

“Nothing is going on between Sam and me. We’re just friends.”

 

“Friends? You sure about that?”

 

“Yes. I mean I care for him, and he’s been very supportive and helpful during these six months.”

 

“Have you heard yourself when you’re talking to him?”

 

I thought back to all our conversations, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary to me.

 

“Honey, you perk up when he calls you. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed how your entire demeanor changes when you’re talkin’ to him.”

 

“No, because everything is as it was!!”

 

“Do you look forward to his calls?”

 

“Well, yeah. It’s become routine.”

 

“Does he make you smile?”

 

“Always.”

 

“Do you even think about his brother when you talk to him anymore?”

 

“Well… I mean I did the other day because-”

 

“Because I brought him up. When’s the last time you asked him about Dean?”

 

“Umm…” I cast my eyes down went through the files of our conversations then looked up at her after I concluded that it had been quite some time. 

 

“That’s what I thought. Honey B,” she advanced towards me, took my hands in hers, her thumbs casually grazed over my fingers. “I’ve heard the way you talk to him, and he makes you happy, he makes you forget all your worries and troubles.”

 

“We’re just friends…” I whispered to myself, but even I didn’t believe my words anymore.

 

“He cares about you deeply, honey. How could you not see it? You’ve been here for about a week, and I picked up on it almost immediately,” she chuckled.

 

**> >Oh my god…<<**

 

I stared at the linoleum as I finally arrived at the party everyone was at; I had feelings for Sam. Tina caressed my cheek then walked past me out the screen door to see Blake. I stood in the kitchen, dumbfounded as to how I could have been so blind.

 

“Fuck…”

 

I thought about every conversation, thought about how he behaved around me after the breakup, before the end, how he was the first person I saw when I woke up after surgery; he was always there. Dean was anything but consistent; we had beautiful high moments, and maybe that was part of the problem; we couldn’t stay up there forever, so when we finally came down to Earth, we didn’t know how to adjust. I walked over to my room, shut the door behind me, went on autopilot while I stripped down and took a shower. 

 

**> >How did this even happen? When did this happen? There was the one time before you passed out. What? When? After the Aidan incident. What did I…<<**

 

_ “Sam, why couldn’t I have fallen for someone like you?” _

 

“Holy shit.” I turned the water off, quickly got out of the shower, wrapped a big grey towel around my body. “Oh, my god..I didn’t…” I placed my hand on my forehead, replayed that night over and over again. That night I was a complete mess, and it was hazy in hindsight, but once I took a deep breath, relaxed a little, everything was clear. “Oh, my god...I did. And then he asked me the next morning if I remembered- fuck. I can’t have feelings for Sam; this is Sam we’re talking about, Dean’s little brother! I can’t have- I mean I…” I plopped down on the edge of the mattress, fell back and closed my eyes. 

  
  


**> >How does Sam make you feel? Safe. He makes me feel safe, grounded. How’d you feel when you were with Dean? Dean made me feel like I was flying and I never wanted to come down. What we had was passion, an overabundance of it, but a relationship can’t survive on passion alone… Sam gives me stability but I don’t want just passion and I don’t want just to feel safe! I want both! Can Sam really give me both? Dean couldn’t...god I wish he could but he couldn’t. What the hell do I do now? Go to Tennessee. What? No. That’s a terrible idea. How else will you know? Go, help the boys. I’m scared… Then run. Run away like you always do. Leave yourself in the dark. No, I don’t want to do that… You are not the same person you were six months ago. You are not the same person you were two years ago. That’s right; I’m not. What if I’m not as over Dean as I think I am? What if Sam wants me to move back? Do I just carry on like nothing happened? What about Dean? What if he hates me? What if he decides he wants me back? Stop. Stop doing that. Don’t drive yourself crazy with questions of ‘What if’, take it one step at a time, and the rest will sort itself out. Ok...ok.<<**

 

I opened my eyes and sat up, terrified but determined to figure myself out and the weird situation I found myself in. I changed into a black v-neck, slipped into a pair of jeans, laced up my boots and packed the appropriate weapons for the hunt and some extra clothes. I was nervous; not because of the Wraith, those were ease to me, but to actually travel six hours to see Dean and Sam. I was terrified that it would all go horribly wrong and blow up in my face, but I had to try; I owed it to myself to see if I really had feelings for Sam and if I was really over Dean. I told Blake and Tina about my plan and they were very supportive and wished me luck. Dayton was only six hours away, by the time I reached the boys the sun would barely be setting, and they would be on their way to the nursing home. The drive was great; ran into a little bit of traffic and grabbed a bite to eat when I got closer to the city. I tried not to think about the real reason why I was there, pretended I was in town on a case, it kept me focused and level headed. I stopped at a gas station to change clothes and grab a can of Redbull. I stared at myself in the dimly lit bathroom, released my hair from the top knot as waves and curls cascaded over my shoulders, I cleaned my glasses, slapped on some lipstick and smoothed my blouse and pencil skirt as best as I could. I threw my pile of clothes into my bag, clipped a sanitation I.D. to my hip and slipped into a pair of heels. I slung the bag across my body and drove down the street to the nursing home. After I had pulled into the parking lot, I slipped a small pocket knife into my bra and hid a small revolver between the waistband of my skirt and blouse. I tossed my bag into some nearby bushes and froze when I caught sight of that black 1967 Chevy Impala. I slowly approached the car and ran my hand gently across the smooth metal. 

 

“Hey Baby, been taking care of the boys?” I said in a hushed tone. The hood of the car was still warm to the touch, the engine creaked and groaned as it cooled. “I missed you too, girl.”

 

I rolled my shoulders back and marched into the facility. There was a kind woman, probably in her late 40s, hard at work at the front desk. 

 

“Hello ma’am, how can I help you?”

 

“Yes, I’m here to do a random inspection.”

 

I flashed her my card, dragged my finger across the countertop, rubbed my thumb and index finger together with the cock of my brow. 

 

“I didn’t hear anything about no inspection.”

 

“Hence why it’s random, ma’am.”

 

I looked up and around the ceiling, confidently strode behind the counter, unimpressed by the setup.

 

“I’m going to be here for a while,” I tossed over my shoulder as I strutted down the hallway to the elevator. 

 

I the door open and I took a step inside and pressed the second-floor button. I exhaled a heavy breath, shook my hands repeatedly as I paced around the small enclosure. When the doors opened, I strode out into the hall and saw them bickering at the other end. Seeing them sent a quiver throughout my entire body and it took every ounce of strength within me to not turn back around and leave and forget the whole thing. 

 

**> >You can do this. You’re much stronger than you think.<<**

 

I ran my tongue along my bottom lip and advanced towards them. My heart beat was quick like a rabbit and my heels echoed through the hallway and grabbed their attention before I could speak a word to them. 

 

>> **It’s going to be ok. Breathe. <<**

 

“Hey Winchesters.”


	7. 0 Days Accident Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been almost a month since I posted! I have been working on this story every day, I even have some future chapters lined up, they just need to be edited! I rewrote this chapter countless times, took her down many different routes and always felt it wasn't quite her reality; it was someone's reality just not hers. I hope you enjoy where I am taking her (you) on this journey. :)

Dean didn’t blink or move, seemed like he stopped breathing all together but Sam, well he lit up like fireworks in the night sky. He quickly walked towards me with his arms outstretched as I met him halfway down the hall and then he scooped me up into his arms and held me close. I wrapped my arms around his neck, chuckled as my feet dangled above the floor and I couldn’t ignore the beautiful, warm feeling coursing through my body. 

 

“I thought you didn’t want to-”

 

“Well someone has to look after you two,” I laughed.

 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he murmured. His hands gripped my waist and shoulder as I buried my face in the crook of his neck and took a whiff of his comforting scent. When he finally released me, I smoothed his shirt and jacket just like I had always done before, he brought his hand to my cheek and it filled me with content. There was a gleam of adoration in his eyes as he peered down at me and maybe it had always been there but it was the first time I actually noticed it. I also managed to overlook the fact that his eyes weren’t a true hazel; there were glorious flecks of orange, swirls of green and drops of blue and a hint of gray in his eyes. A couple of beats passed until I tore my sights away from Sam to Dean’s expressionless face. I gazed into those torturous emerald eyes; consumed with thoughts of us, of what we had and the way we were.

 

“Hey, De-”

 

Before I could finish uttering his name, he pulled me into an embrace. My body tensed against him, I didn’t anticipate such a warm and inviting gesture but once I accepted it, I softened my exterior and wrapped my arms around his ribcage. I closed my eyes and listened to the drumming of his heart; it was quick and fast but soon settled into its normal rate. The best way I could describe the way I felt is the feeling one gets when they run their finger against a scar; it doesn’t hurt anymore but you still remember when it happened, where it happened, and the pain. He groaned and sighed into me, smoothed my hair and rested his hand under the curve of my head. I squeezed my eyes tight and my bottom lip quivered as I scrunched his jacket under my fingers. Six months. Six, long months of silence; no texts, no calls. I sighed into the lapel of his jacket and whispered his name. I pulled away from him, brought my hand to cup his cheek, his stubble was coming in, and exchanged smiles. I smoothed the wrinkles in his shirt and jacket, placed my hands on my waist and popped my hip to the side. 

 

“You look good, kid," he said.

 

“You’re not so bad yourself, old man,” I jabbed. 

 

**> >Look at us, poking at each other just like we used to.<<**

 

“So, have you, boys, figured out which person the wraith is or do I have do everything around here?” I said arrogantly as I raised my brow at the both of them. 

 

“Yeah, we have an idea of who it is but they were only scheduled on certain days so we had to wait,” Sam answered as he stepped into my peripheral.

 

“Wait, that thing can affect you with one touch. Did you touch anyone?”

 

“Germaphobe,” Dean answered.

 

“Smart…” 

 

Dean’s eyes lingered over me, that handsome smile on his face faded and I saw the familiar  heaviness in his eyes as if the soul of the Earth were eroding within him. 

 

“Alright, let’s get to it then.”

 

\----

 

The hunt went as well as it could. I followed their every move, followed Dean’s orders without so much as an eye roll. They knew what the creature looked like and I didn’t and I wasn’t about to act like hot shit and end up getting us all killed. A small fraction of me was concerned at how well we would work together but as soon as we got down to business, we flowed, we were a cohesive unit just like before but better; he trusted me and allowed me the freedom to prove that I was not only stronger but smarter as well.  After we wrapped up, we headed out towards the Impala as I trailed behind them with my heels in my hands. As we got closer and closer, I realized I couldn’t leave with them and it took me aback at how easy it was to fall into old habits again. I stopped in the middle of the parking lot and buried my face in the crook of my arm as I released a heavy yawn.  

 

“Hey,” I called to them.

 

They slowed their pace until they came to a complete stop. Sam looked puzzled and Dean, well, for once, I couldn’t read him. 

 

“I’m gonna head on out.”

 

“This late? Are you sure?” asked Sam.

 

“Of course. If I leave now, I’ll arrive back in McLain by 6 AM.”

“It’s such a long drive, though.”

Sam strode up to me and Dean followed suit. 

 

“I’m used to it,” I yawned. 

 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

 

“Sam, you worry too much. I’ll be ok.”

 

The fine lines around his eyes crinkled as he pleaded his case.

 

“It’s a long drive back to Mississippi and clearly, you’re tired. I think it’d be in your best interest to stay with us...”

 

“..Nnno, I don’t think I can-”

 

“Yes, you can! I mean,” he raised his shoulders, sucked his lips in, gestured to Dean and himself, “I think we’d both feel...at ease if you stayed the night.” Dean was weirdly quiet and distant. I took a step to the side and out of Sam’s shadow in hopes I could get Dean to look at me. 

 

“Dean,” I called to him

 

“Yeah?” He rolled his head in my direction, his eyes cast down.

 

“Are you- is this ok?”

 

Sam smacked Dean’s chest and shot him a warned glance. Dean looked up and they exchanged weird looks to each other, Sam obviously gestured to me with his eyebrows and with a curt nod of his head.

 

“Um… it’s up to you,” he replied dejectedly. 

 

Dean pivoted over his shoulder and hid in the car. I should have expected as much from him but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt me. It was a small, little sting in my heart and the more I thought about it the more it spread like a virus through my system. A chill roved over me as my vocal chords tightened and made it difficult to swallow. Sam sighed, looked to his brother then to the sky and finally settled on me. He moved closer, blocked the view of the Impala with his towering frame, determined to sever the connection of pain I felt from that Dean.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You ok?”

 

“I’m fine…”

 

I lifted my head but didn’t dare to look Sam in the eyes; I didn’t want him to see how much Dean’s apathy affected me. 

 

“It’s ok to not be fine.”

 

“Sam, if that’s not any indication of how terrible of an idea this is-”

 

“No, I mean-”

 

“Sam forget it! I’m heading back home.” I clutched my shoes to my chest, turned over my shoulder and began my walk back to my bike.

 

“No, wait! Please!” Sam ran past me and stood in my direct path. “I want you to stay!” His voice was sharp and firm. “I’ve waited… God. I love Dean, I love my brother, I’d do anything for him but I hate- I hate how his indifference hurts you.” I rested my chin on my shoulder as he continued. “I know you believe this is the worst idea I’ve ever had and I understand that I’m asking a lot of you but,” he sighed and brought his finger under my chin and forced me to look him in the eyes, “could you please stay for one night?”

 

**> >What should I do? I want to run away. I want to run right back to Mclain and forget this entire trip. That’s what my instincts are telling me to do. Correct, so? I should stay then. Why? Because I can’t run away forever. I have to face this even if it hurts. I’ll come out ok in the end. Why else? For Sam. Why? Because… I care about him. And? He’s the one standing in front of me making sure I’m ok and not Dean. He’s transparent with me. Right. Sam wants me here. Sam has always been there for you, return the favor.<<**

 

“Ok.”

 

“Ok, what?”

 

“I’ll stay.” 

 

His eyes grew with disbelief as he jutted his head out. 

 

“Really? You’ll stay?”

 

“Yes, but just for tonight.”

 

“I mean, don’t stay because I, you know, forced you to or anything...”

 

“Sam, you know no one can force me to do anything I don’t want to do. I’m doing it because,” I took his hand in mine and gave it a light squeeze, “ _ I _ want to.”

 

The headlights of the Impala came on and the engine roared to life. Sam peered down at my little gesture and he smiled from ear to ear. He fished out a small key from his pocket and placed it in my hand. He explained to me where the motel was, I recalled seeing it when I drove in, told me what room and everything. I was scared out of my damn mind because I was challenging myself and allowing myself to be vulnerable in the moment.

 

“We’re gonna go to a local bar not too far from the motel we’re staying at.”

 

“I know the routine; always a drink after completing a hunt. I’ll see you in the morning, alright?” I smiled.

 

“I, um,” he took a few steps past me, paused, then spun back around with his hands clasped before his chest, “I'm glad you're staying,” he said with a tight-lipped grin as he walked back to the Impala. 

 

After I spent a few minutes searching for my bag, I drove over to the motel and fought against countless urges to swing back around and head back to Mississippi. I hopped in the shower and changed back into the clothes I arrived in as the exhaustion consumed my body.  I looked at the two beds; one perfectly made while the other appeared haphazard. I pulled the comforter off of Sam's bed, snagged a pillow, and made myself comfortable on the couch. I wrapped myself in a warm cocoon and began to drift. I awoke in the middle of the night, something in my dream frightened me, and I noticed how I had been moved to the bed. The soft pitter patter of droplets hitting the window aided in the silence of the room. I sat up and peered around; Sam was sound asleep on the couch and Dean was… staring at me.

 

“Hey,” he whispered.

 

“Hi.”

 

“You ok?”

 

“Yeah, nightmare,” I sighed as I fell back against the pillows. I stared at the ceiling, waited for sleep to take me again.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Yeah?” I replied as I turned my head to face him.

 

“Why’d you stay?”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

I rolled to my side and inched closer to the edge of the bed as Dean did the same. The width of the nightstand kept us separated but the space was filled with more than an outdated carpet and clothes.

 

“Why’d you stay?”

 

“I was tired.”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“No, I’m not.”

 

“Come on, I know when you’re lying.”

 

I pushed my hair behind my ear, scrunched the pillow under my head, and took a deep breath.

 

“Why’d you stay?”

 

“Because I wanted to,” I snapped. 

 

He pursed his lips together, flicked the tip of his nose and released a small burp. Even in the dark room, illuminated by the small rays of light from the sign outside, I could see his green eyes like beacons. 

 

“You know, regardless of why you came and why you stayed; I’m glad you did.”

 

**> >What did he just say?<<**

 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day you left.”

 

**> >Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. <<**

 

I imagined Dean saying those words to me numerous times in my mind and yet it still took my breath away when he said it. I wish I could have been happy to hear it, elated, ecstatic even, but I wasn’t; I was angry.

 

“You’re drunk,” I stated.

 

“So?” he sneered. “Why does it matter if I’m drunk or not? I’m trying to tell you-”

 

“No! I don’t want to hear it!”

 

All the right words finally made themselves known six months too late. It wasn’t fair, it was wrong of him to put this on me. We both looked over to Sam, still sound asleep, a part of me wished he would wake up, soothe my anger and sadness just like he had always done before. I liked who I was turning into with Sam by my side but when I was next to Dean, it was much easier to resort back to who I was regardless if it was healthy or not. I was so angry at him for hurting me, for pushing me away, for not chasing after me. It shouldn't have mattered, not then, but it did. I couldn't stop the thought from flooding my mind; why didn't I mean as much to him as he did to me?

 

“Dean, I can’t do this with you.”

 

I rolled over my shoulder and turned away from him. I tucked the edge of the comforter under my chin, relished a heavy sigh as my fingers gingerly stroked the soft fabric covering the pillow. A dark cloud hung in the room, darkness crawled on top of me and made a home on my chest. I tried to convince myself that none of it needed to be complicated; accept how he felt, accept his words, but I just couldn't. 

 

I heard Dean sigh heavily as he ripped the sheet off of his body, my mattress dipped under his weight then he placed his hand on my calve. I shut my eyes and silently counted to ten to keep my nerves from getting the best of me. I was exhausted from the work I did with Blake that morning, famished from the drive and the heat, and completely beat from the hunt; why couldn't it have happened another time? I tried my best to ignore him, hoped he would get the message and go back to his bed and let me sleep but that didn't happen. He tugged the comforter down, his calloused hand wrapped around my wrist as he pulled me up to face him. I shifted in my seat, folded my legs in, and rested my hands in my lap. I rubbed my lips together, kept my head down as I slid my thumbs against my nails.

 

“What do you need to say, Dean?” 

 

“Look at me.”

 

I could smell the cheap whiskey on his breath, the faint aroma of cigarettes permeated off his body. I lifted my head and met those heavy green eyes, a faint glaze over them from the alcohol. I blinked slowly, chewed on the inside of my lip, cheeks hot like fire as my anger began to culminate within me. 

 

“What Dean? What do you want to tell me?”

 

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“This; cold and distant. It’s not you.”

 

“And you think you know me so well,” I replied sarcastically. 

 

“I do. You know me and I know you.”

 

“Well if you did, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

 

**> >That was harsh.<<**

 

He sucked his cheeks in and looked up at the ceiling. I had goosebumps on my skin and I felt the cold bitterness spread through me. I cocked my head to the side, peered up at him in a blank stare. I wouldn't give Dean the benefit of seeing me as a broken woman, that the subject of us still hurt me more than I ever thought possible. He scratched his stubble coarsely, he hunched over his knees as he watched the rain fall. 

 

“I gave you what you wanted,” he said flatly.

 

“What  _ I  _ wanted?” I furrowed my brows, pressed my hand into my chest  as I leaned towards him. 

 

“Yeah, you pretty much told me you wanted  _ nothing _ to do with me.”

 

I chuckled at his audacity. Six months later and we were still doing the same song and dance. 

 

“You think  _ this _ is what I wanted?”

 

“Well, you left.” 

 

I scoffed at him and pressed my fingers into my temples, my eyes wide in shock, my mouth hung open as he continued. 

 

“You’re the one that stormed out that night and Sam had to get you before you did something stupid.”

 

“Funny, I don’t remember it happening that way, Dean. I distinctly recall that you  _ told _ me to go; that's why I left that night. Why didn't  _ you _ go after me? Why was it Sam that retrieved me?”

 

I waited for him to answer but I was rewarded with more silence. He sighed heavily and turned towards me as he shielded his emotions under a cold exterior.

 

“I didn't want to see you…”

 

I bobbed my head and pulled my lips the side. Thunder roared outside, lightly shook the door of the room as his words shook me too. 

 

“Look, I was upset-”

 

“And that makes it ok?!” I raised my voice. I looked up at the ceiling, tried to regain control of my emotions before I pressed on. “I wanted to talk to you, the morning after, I wanted to talk about us but you shut me down. You were so…  _ cruel _ that morning, so hell bent to throw us away without a second thought. Why would I stay after that?”

 

“I called you.”

 

“God, that message,” I mumbled.

 

“Yeah, I called you-”

 

“And left that shit voicemail! Do you remember how that message ended, Dean?” I couldn't hold it back any longer and I didn't care if I woke up Sam or the people in the next room. “I waited and waited for you to call back and tell me whatever was on your mind, give me a reason to come back home. And what did I get; nothing.  _ That’s _ what I remember.”

 

“You don't think I've regretted that moment every god damn day? One of the biggest mistakes of my life was letting you go. I wish I could take it back,  I want to take it back-”

 

“But you can’t! You can’t say some- you can’t do this to me!”

 

“Do what?”

 

“This! You can’t decide now is the time you want to rid yourself of your guilt! It doesn’t work that way! You can’t spout some words and expect it to fix everything!”

 

“I know it doesn’t but I-”

 

“No!”

 

“I want to say-”

 

I shook my head.

 

“Listen-”

 

“No!”

 

“God damn it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, alright?!” He grabbed my arms and lightly but firmly shook me. I stared into those tortured eyes and saw him,  _ my _ Dean; the Dean with burning passion in his veins, the Dean that saw me as his equal, the Dean that saw me as home. 

 

Sam sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he opened them one at a time. 

 

“When I watched you leave that night I… I felt like I failed you. I had no idea you were so unhappy and I- I should have gone after you! I shouldn’t have let you go.”

 

I was dumbstruck. His rough hands against my smooth skin sparked something in me; that small, familiar feeling began to rustle. He scooted closer to me, the smell of Wild Turkey and smoke overwhelmed my senses. He brought his hand under my jaw, his thumb grazed my bottom lip, and my breath hitched in my throat. Sam climbed to his feet, approached us, and took post at the end of my bed.

 

“Everything ok?” Sam asked.

 

“Yeah, we're good here, Sammy.” Dean leaned forward, kissed my forehead, then rested his head against mine. He rose, crawled back into his bed, took the sheet and pulled it over his body.

  
He turned away from us and I couldn't bring myself look at Sam. He roughly scratched his head, twitched and fiddled his thumbs. I closed my eyes and released a shaky breath. I raked my fingers through my hair, fell onto my back and flopped my arms over my eyes. Sam grunted and plopped back down on the couch. The storm picked up outside and raged onward through the night straight on til morning.


	8. All I Have To Do Is Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy darlings and thank you for reading! Great things are coming for this story and just in my life in general. With that being said, the next chapter is in the works but it will be a while until it is posted, so I hope this holds y'all for a while. :)

_ “Dean, wake up,” I whispered in his ear as I peppered butterfly kisses along his jawline. _

 

_ He groaned like a teenager, the sun in his eyes urged him to rise from bed. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his hand slid around my body and I couldn’t help but chuckle; his stubble tickled me. I combed his hair lightly with my fingers and smiled. _

 

_ “Dean, get up, we can’t stay in bed forever.” _

 

_ He mumbled into my neck and kissed my flesh, worked his way down to my shoulder. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I licked my lips and grinned like a fool. _

 

_ “Dean, come on.” _

 

_ I hit his shoulder lightly but it only fueled him further. He gripped my leg and pulled it up and over his hip, his groin flushed against me. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back to allow him better access as his hand wandered and roamed my body. A meager moan escaped me, my siren call for his lips to be pressed against mine. He answered my plea; the taste of his tongue excited me but something was off; his kiss tasted different and there was a peculiar kind of hunger pushing him forward. I felt his hand squeeze my breast, his other hand entwined with mine as he rolled me onto my back, and fixed my hand above my head. He ground his hips into mine, nipped at my bottom lip, I smoothed my hand up his ribs, snaked up his chest and around his neck as my fingers were met with long locks of hair. My lids flew open and staring back at me were Sam’s lust filled eyes. He took the wind right out of me as he kissed me more passionately, so full of fire and desire, his bare chest pressed against mine as I swallowed his guttural moan. _

_ I shut my eyes and dragged my nails down his back as I moaned and groaned under his touch. He leaned back, his rough hands trailed down my torso, my skin puckered and I chuckled. I opened my eyes to see Dean with his signature smirk.  _

 

_ “You’re so beautiful,” he said.  _

 

_ I sat up and draped my arms over his shoulders and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. His hands smoothed up and down my sides and paused at my hips.  _

 

_ “Let’s stay in bed. Screw the world and its problems.” _

 

_ “Oh, please,” I scoffed. _

 

_ “I just want to be with you.” _

 

_ I loved us. I love us in that moment. All we needed was us. His proposal sounded more and more enticing with each passing minute. I embraced him in my arms, a silent yes to his proposition of staying in bed. My fingers traced over the curves of his back, so strong and muscular, as I rested my cheek against his shoulder and sighed happily.  _

 

_ “Stay with me,” he whispered as he placed a gentle kiss on the tip of my shoulder. _

 

_ “What?” _

 

_ I leaned back and Sam cradled my face in his hands, a couple of stray strands fell forward over his eyes, but he never lost his intensity.  _

 

_ “Please don't leave me.” _

 

_ “Sam-” _

 

_ “Promise me.” _

 

_ I’d do anything for him. I didn’t understand why he thought I’d leave him but if he needed to me to say it and ease it worries... _

 

_ “I'll never leave you.” _

 

_ I blinked and Dean blissfully smiled back at me. His thumb caressed my cheek  as I leaned into his touch. _

 

_ “I know you won't.” _

 

_ There was a commotion  in the next room, the voices sounded unusual yet familiar at the same time. _

 

_ “I love you,” he said as he brushed my hair behind my ear. _

 

_ “I- do you hear that?” I asked. _

 

_ The voices grew louder the longer I stared at the wall. I furrowed my brows, squinted my eyes, as the words became more audible. I recognized those voices. My mouth started to move like a ventriloquist doll until the words became my own. I squeezed the bridge of my nose and paced back and forth in our room.  _

 

_ “God, why do I even try! You take everything as a personal attack!” _

 

_ “Well, how else am I supposed to take it?!” _

 

_ “You think you’re the only one that suffers?! The only one to feel and experience pain?! Your pain is the only one that matters, right Dean?” _

 

_ “That’s not what I’m saying but you can’t blame me for feeling blindsided in all this! One minute you’re happy and the next you’re telling me you’re not!” _

 

_ “Well, I can’t hold it in anymore! It sickens me! Physically and emotionally!! I won’t do it anymore!!” _

 

_ “It sickens you?” _

 

_ “Yes!” _

 

_ “Well then enlighten me; how long has this been... sickening you, hm?” _

 

_ “Two years. Two years too long.” _

 

_ I looked down at my feet and rested my hands on my hips.  _

 

_ “We've been together for four years and now you're telling me; two years? So you’ve been walking around here, lying to my face?” _

 

_ “Don’t you dare try to blame this on me, Dean!” _

 

_ I couldn’t believe he was trying to pin the last two years of our failed relationship on me. He had the gall to point fingers and blame me. I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I stormed up to him, my face inches from his as I pled my case. _

 

_ “You changed after my accident. You treated me differently, like some fragile woman, and- and I went along with it because I knew...” _

 

_ “You knew what?” _

 

_ “I knew you blamed yourself. I couldn’t handle the pain and torment in your eyes so I went along with it. I just wanted to make you happy and I lost myself in the process.” _

 

_ “You lost yourself, huh? Didn’t realize I made you suffer for so long!” _

 

_ “That’s not what I said!!” _

 

_ “You know what; we’re done here.” _

__

_ He gripped the handle and pulled the door open and stormed out into the hall. _

__

_ “Dean where are you going?!” _

 

_ I chased after him down the hall but I could never reach him. I kept running and running but I was never able to catch up to him until I just stopped trying. He was gone. I yelled out his name until my voice grew hoarse but he never came back. I rested my head against the wall, slammed my fist repeatedly as the tears trickled down my face. My body trembled and I felt like I couldn't breathe. _

 

_ “It wasn't meant to work.” _

 

_ I sharply cocked my head to the side and saw Sam standing before me with a kind smile on his face. _

 

_ “It was always supposed to end; you and him.” _

 

_ “Why?” I sniffled, “I just- I wanted to- I couldn’t-” _

 

_ “You’re relying on something from the past, something intangible, to keep you warm in the present. You will freeze.” _

 

_ “I just...I don’t understand why. Why couldn’t we work? Why didn’t we work?” _

 

_ “I could make you happy; as happy as you make me.” _

 

_ I gazed into his eyes and knew he was right; everything I wanted could be waiting for me if I could only let go.  _

 

_ “We could be happy together. We can have the life you’ve always wanted.” _

 

I woke up with a gasp, confused, and disoriented. I propped myself up and peered around the room; there was daylight out but the rain continued from hours before, Dean asleep in a light snore and Sam; quiet and still on the couch. I got out of bed, yawned, stretched my body awake, and rose to my feet. I gazed upon Dean’s face; he always scowled in his sleep as if even in the dreaming world he found no peace **.** Sam shifted on the couch, his enormous body was too much for the love seat to handle and yet he managed as best he could. I walked over to his side, knelt beside him, studied the intrinsic details of his face, and shook my head when a piece of my dream flashed before me.

 

_ “We could be happy together.” _

 

I came to a stand, rested my hands on my hips, moved past him and grabbed my things as quietly as I could as to not wake either of them. When I walked past Sam again, his hand flopped over and dragged against mine. I had no idea what I was doing and what I wanted. Correction; I knew what I wanted I didn’t know how to go about having it. I wanted to take a chance with Sam because I did believe he could make me unabashedly happy. On the other hand; because Dean divulged everything he wanted me to know and told me how he truly felt, it made me think that maybe things weren’t quite over between us. I wanted to be with Sam but I didn’t want to hurt Dean or him, for that matter. I was plagued with the notion that perhaps things could be different between Dean and me and if I passed up the opportunity; I could possibly turn my back on something amazing. On the flip side; I knew without a shred of doubt that Sam would always be there for me, that if we both decided to try and take flight that we could and probably would be happy. Broken down in such a way; it’d be stupid to throw a for sure thing away for a big risk, then again life’s all about taking chances.

 

“Hey,” he yawned and broke my train of thought.

 

“Hey, did I wake you?”

 

“Sort of felt your eyes on me,” he chuckled as he sat up slowly and rubbed the dust of sleep from his eyes. Sam sleepily smiled up at me and as his eyes roamed from my face to my bag around my body, that smile faded away.

 

“Are you leaving?”

 

“Oh, yeah, I need to be getting back.”

 

I took a seat before him as his arms rested on his knees.

 

“I didn’t think you’d leave so soon.”

 

“Well, it's noon and it's a six-hour drive back to Mississippi.”

 

“Is it really that late?”

 

I nodded in response.

 

“He still asleep?”

 

“Yeah,” I replied as I glimpsed over my shoulder to confirm my belief.

 

“What did he tell you?”

 

“Hm?” I turned back towards Sam.

 

“What did he say to you last night?”

 

“He was drunk… it doesn’t mean anything,” I trailed off as I cast my eyes down.

 

“It means everything,” he snapped.

 

His response was startling, more so the tone he took with me. I understood why he asked and why he was so short with me. I needed to be upfront and honest with him and tell him that I wanted time to figure everything out especially after the previous night but how much time would he grant me? How long would he continue to be patient with me until he reached his breaking point? How could I expect him to wait for me until I finally decided what I wanted? If I were him, it’d be a now or never kind of thing. I’d want him to choose as soon as possible otherwise, he’d need to let me go. 

 

“Sam, you and I both know that what happened here last night could not have been avoided and I… I need to do what is right for me but I don’t even know what that is.” I pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes, frustrated I couldn’t find the right words and I couldn’t make a decision; I kept tearing myself in different directions and found I was going nowhere. 

 

**> >Just do it.<<**

 

“I like this.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“ _ This! _ Us. I want to see where this could go because,” I grabbed his hand and used it as an anchor to keep me grounded and focused, “you have been so patient with me and it would be wrong of me to ask you to wait some more until I get my head out of my ass.”

 

He chuckled at my words and allowed me to continue.

 

“Sam, I know I’m slow as fucking molasses but I know I feel something very deep and very true for you. And I owe it to you and to myself to discover what this could be. I don’t know how this will work but I will try to experience and live this with you. I mean listen to me; six months ago I could never be this honest and open and I know you are a big part of that. But I need you to also know that I’m scared,” I said with the shrug of my shoulders. I was terrified because as much as I wanted to delve deeper into whatever Sam and I had, I couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting Dean.

 

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Sam leaned forward and held my face in his hands, just like he had done in my dream, “It’s ok to be scared. I know you’re scared, hell, I’m scared too. We don’t need to make plans now or jump the gun on anything. We’ll take this one day at a time just like we always do.”

 

I nodded my head but I was still so concerned about Dean and I needed us to address it immediately.

 

“What about him? He just poured his heart out to me and-”

 

“He doesn’t need to know.”

 

“Sam.”

 

I got up and crawled onto the couch and took a seat next to him. I tucked my leg in and leaned against the armrest as Sam went on.

 

“He doesn’t need to know when  _ we _ don’t even know what this is.”

 

“I don’t know. It feels… dishonest.”

 

His head dropped and shook slightly, he mumbled something under his breath as he raked his fingers through his hair, and came back up on the exhale. 

 

“I’m not going to say anything and I don’t think you should either.”

 

“I don’t want to hurt him, Sam,” I spoke softly as I cast my gaze upon Dean, still sound asleep.

 

“I know… I don’t either. But, let’s wait and when the time is right-”

 

“We’ll tell him.”

 

I got up from the couch and gathered my belongings once more, twirled my keys in my hand.

 

“Walk me out,” I instructed as I strode to the front door, Sam in tow. I pulled the door open, watched as the mist covered the scenery and cars. I stepped outside the door, took a deep breath; I always loved the smell of rain. Sam followed behind me and quietly shut the door. 

 

“You sure you don’t want to wait? See if the rain stops?”

 

“It has stopped, it’s merely mist now. Plus, my phone is dead and I’m sure Tina is worried sick about me.”

 

I faced him, tucked my fingers into the pockets of my jeans, tilted my head to the side with a smile. Sam’s hands rested on his hips with a tight-lipped grin as he swayed back and forth.

 

“So… when will I see you again?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Hopefully not after another six months,” he teased.

 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll figure it out.”

 

I wrapped my arms around him, buried my face into his stomach, and felt so content when his arms curled around me with his head on top of mine. This sound of his beating heart was vastly different from Dean’s and I wasn’t entirely sure how that could be possible. The soft thudding of his heart was soothing and mixed with the smell of the rain in the air; I could have stayed there forever. I pulled back and rested my hands on his chest as he smoothed my hair back.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Yeah?” I tilted my head up.

 

“Before you go, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

 

“What is it?”

  
Sam leaned down, his hand rested under the curve of my head as he gently pressed his soft, tender lips to mine. I was filled with joy and I saw flashes of my dream mixed with what could be. He rested his forehead against mine as we both released a breath we didn’t realize we had been holding. We chuckled not because it was awkward but because we both just had a taste of what happiness could be like for us. Before Sam; forever wasn’t even an option and now; it was. 


End file.
